


FT MEPDE 
GenCol1 



















DEPOSIT 


COPYRIGHT 


Wake 


Guam 














ROUTE OF 

FLYING CLIPPER SHIPS 
TO CHINA 



























TIMMY RIDES 

THE 

CHINA CLIPPER 




He firmly resolved to return and uncover that treasure jor himselj 






TIMMY RIDES 
CHINA CLIPPER 

Story and Pictures by 

CAROL NAY 



CHICAGO 
19 3 9 




Copyright, 1939, by 

ALBERT WHITMAN 6? COMPANY 




X 


Lithographed in the U.S.A. 


©ci A 




135100 


NOV -2 1939 




FOREWORD 

In writing this book on the trail of the Clipper Ships flying 
to the Orient, the author wishes to explain that the plane about 
which the story revolves is not technically the China Clipper, 
but the new Boeing California Clipper which also makes the trip 
to China for Pan American Airways System. 

The author also wishes to acknowledge the co-operation of 
Mr. Francis Walton, Director of the Public Relations Bureau of 
Pan American Airways System and other members of the per¬ 
sonnel for access to bulletins, charts, photographs, and personal 
experiences which aided in making this story an authentic account 
of the flight across the Pacific Ocean. 

To Marianne Miller and Frank Nay the author extends thanks 
for their aid on the manuscript and technical drawings. 

C. N. 


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TIMMY BEGINS HIS FLIGHT 

N OT long ago, a giant silver bird was hatched from a great 
factory shell in the Pacific Northwest. All shining and 
new, it spread its wings and rose like an albatross into 
a sun-splashed sky. Due south toward California it winged its 
way. As its motors roared overhead, men paused in their labors 
to watch this new monarch of the skies speed majestically along 
its course. 

"There goes the largest passenger plane in the world!" they 
said with pride. 

Soon the swift flight into the southland came to an end. Now 
the jagged fingers of San Francisco Bay gripped the land below, 
and the great ship began to descend. Slowly it cruised above the 
Golden Gate, above the network of ships and bridges, until it 
dipped its nose into the blue waters beside the spires of Treasure 
Island. 


7 

















































Here, at one of the finest air-marine terminals ever built, men 
of Pan American Airways System welcomed their new Clipper 
Ship with joy. Its coming marked a new era in aviation. Now 
oceans could be spanned with a comfort and a safety hitherto 
unknown. 

On a Wednesday afternoon in mid-December, a young boy 
stood in the door of the Pan American terminal on Treasure 
Island. His eyes glistened with excitement as he watched men load 
the Clipper Ship that lay anchored in The Port of Trade Winds 
Lagoon. Soon these great wings spreading before him would be 
carrying a cargo of men and mail across the sea to China. And 
he, Timmy Blake, would be a part of that cargo! 

He was going to spend Christmas with his Aunt Kate and 
Uncle George in far-off Hong Kong. Far-off, indeed! Did it not 
take ocean liners many weeks to reach the Orient? Yet, in this 
Clipper Ship, China lay west only six days away. 

So lost was Timmy in his thoughts that he scarcely felt a uni¬ 
formed man tap his shoulder and say briskly, “Timmy Blake? 
Come this way, please. We have to weigh you in before you go 
aboard. 11 

Timmy followed and stepped up on the scales. Eagerly he 
turned toward his father and mother who now stood beside him. 
He forced a laugh to down the little fear that rose at the thought 
of leaving his parents behind. “I weigh ninety pounds, Dad, 11 he 
said bravely. “It won't be long 'til I'll be as heavy as you. 11 

“Still, you are the lightest passenger on the Clipper Ship, 11 
replied his father. How does this sound: ninety pounds of boy 
with seventy-seven pounds of baggage bound for China on a 
forty-one and one-half ton plane? 11 

Like the chance of a lifetime, 11 murmured Timmy's mother 


8 



wistfully. "Few boys have an aunt and uncle to send them a 
ticket to fly all the way to China. I wish I were going along." 

Mrs. Blake studied her young son with pride. Then she 
smiled. He seemed so grown-up and manly as he stood there in 
his new blue sport jacket and gray slacks. Timmy was a tall youth 
for his age, with bright blue eyes and a mop of tumbled brown 
hair which he now brushed from his forehead. His mother drew 
him to her side and pressed his head against her shoulder. "We're 
going to miss you, Timmy," she said softly. "This will be your 
first Christmas away from home. But I know you are going to 
have the most wonderful trip in the world." 

Now the crew began to assemble and suddenly a bell echoed 
loudly through the terminal. The time of departure was quickly 
drawing near. There was a stir among the passengers who looked 
with eager faces through the door. Presently the Captain and 

9 



his crew of eleven filed down the landing to board the waiting 
ship. A moment later the great bird began to tremble with life 
as the roar of its four motors pierced the stillness. 

Then the bell rang twice, and the terminal door was opened 
for the passengers to file down to the ship. Timmy’s heart began 
to pound with excitement. He kissed his mother and father good' 
bye and hurried down the landing. What a never'to'be'forgotten 
thrill he felt as he stepped briskly onto the float and waited his 
turn with his fellow passengers to cross the gangplank. 

And how small he seemed, standing before that enormous 
streamlined plane. How gigantic it loomed, poised and ready for 
its long flight. His blue eyes widened in awe as his gaze followed 
the spread of the great wings from tip to tip, a distance of one 
hundred and fifty-two feet. These wings being of a cantilever 
type, eliminate the necessity of exterior spars and struts. 

Then Timmy’s eyes covered the size of the hull which is con¬ 
structed in three decks. The Captain and his crew control the 
plane from the upper deck, the passengers occupy the middle deck, 
while the gasoline pumps fill the small bottom deck. 

The entire plane is built of metal, chiefly aluminum alloy. 
Near the center of the ship, the construction is steel to insure 
strength and safety. The hydro-stabilizer now under Timmy’s 
feet as he approached the open hatch serves also as a fuel tank. 
There is one on each side of the ship. 

Upon entering the hull, Timmy descended three steps into a 
large dining room and recreation center. From there a steward 
led him to a compartment and bade him to be seated. 

“We fasten your safety belt for all take-offs and landings,” 
he explained as he deftly adjusted the straps. “Merely a regula¬ 
tion. No danger.” 

As other passengers entered his compartment, Timmy was 


10 


too occupied to heed them. Through the window he stared at 
the crowd behind the wire fence of the terminal yard. Dimly 
he could see his parents in the foreground and he waved gaily, 
hoping that they could see him. 

Somewhere near a clock struck four, and immediately the ship 
began to move slowly from the landing and head up the bay. For 
forty-five seconds it skimmed the waves as it gained speed. Then 
with a terrific roar, it shook off the clutch of the sea and rose 
gracefully into the air. 

Up! Up, it soared, until the Golden Gate and the brown 
California hills resembled a relief map in the background. Soon 
the coastline was lost to view in the blue haze of the winter 
afternoon. Timmy now found himself in a new world that was 
strangely beautiful to behold; a world of rippling sea and misty 
sky as far as his wondering eyes could reach. 

At last he turned from the window and began to study his 
surroundings. There were ten passengers in his compartment, 
all resting easily in their davenport-like seats. On the starboard 
side, his companions were seated on a pair of triple seats which 
faced each other. On the port side, there were double seats in the 
same position. The upholstering was a soft tan wool with leather 
trimmings that contrasted pleasantly with the green carpet and 
lighter green walls. 

Occasionally a passenger sent a curious glance in Timmy's 
direction which made the boy shift awkwardly in his seat. He 
felt suddenly shy and uncomfortable until a young woman oppo¬ 
site him smiled pleasantly and asked his name. Her own, Timmy 
learned, was Jane Lee, and she was to draw sketches of the trip 
for a San Francisco magazine. 

Til sketch everything you want me to,” she offered. “That 
is, excepting bats and rats and spiders!” 


11 


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INTERIOR OF CLIPPER SHIP 

The 86,000-pound Clipper Ship is constructed in three decks. In the bow of the plane is the 
Anchor and Gear Room. From here a gangway leads to the Bridge above where two pilots 
handle the controls of the ship. Back of the Bridge is the Navigation and Radio Room where 
the Radio Officer, Navigation Officer, and Flight Engineer direct their instruments. Just behind 
is the Captain’s desk and chairs. Behind this is the Cargo Hold and Crew’s Quarters. 

The passenger deck is divided into nine separate sections. Five of them are standard pas- 
senger compartments and the sixth is a half-size compartment. The central section is a large 





























room which may be alternately furnished either as a lounge or dining saloon. The aftmost 
section is a de luxe compartment. The galley and men’s dressing rooms are across the hall 
from each other in the forward end of the deck. The women's room is in the rear. Rooms 
on the passenger deck are square'walled. 

At the bottom of the plane, pumps force gasoline stored in the sponsons up into the wing 
tanks and engines. 

On the very top of the plane is the Observation Turret, or Blister, from which the Ship's 
position is checked by sun and stars. 





















Timmy liked Miss Lee. She had warm brown eyes and a wealth 
of copper-colored hair. It would be fun to watch her draw on 
that white sketch pad she held between her slender fingers. 

Presently a steward in a smart blue uniform entered the door 
and approached Timmy. “Well, young man, are you enjoying 
your trip?” 

“You bet I am!” cried Timmy enthusiastically. “How high 
are we flying right now, sir?” 

“About eight thousand feet. And we’re cruising along at one 
hundred and fifty odd miles an hour.” 

“Wow!” cried Timmy in amazement. “Are we going that 
fast?” 

“Yes, that’s about average speed,” laughed the steward, “but 
it will get us to Honolulu by tomorrow morning.” He paused, 
then added, “I am Mr. Barton, the Flight Steward. If there is 
anything you or the others wish, just let me know.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Barton,” murmured Jane Lee graciously. 

Mr. Barton started to leave the compartment, but suddenly 
he returned and spoke to Timmy. “Suppose I show you through 
the ship now, so that you’ll be familiar with your home for the 
next few days.” 

The boy rose quickly, followed by Jane Lee who cried: “I 
want to see it, too.” 

“And I,” echoed a pleasantdooking man who had been watch' 
ing the group with interest. He rose and introduced himself as 
Mr. Lang, an engineer on his way to Guam to work for the 
United States Government. 

The trio followed Mr. Barton to the rear of the ship. Here 
they entered a most attractive deluxe compartment with bright 
blue upholstered furnishings, a built-in love seat, odd tables, and 
a large easy chair. A prominent actor and his wife occupied the 


14 



room now, and they invited the sightseers to visit them again. 

Mr. Barton then proceeded to lead them through a series of 
compartments like their own. "There are five of these large 
compartments and a sixth, which seats only four persons, in addi¬ 
tion to the large dining room that you saw when you came 
aboard,” he explained. "The seats are converted into upper and 
lower berths on our night flight to Honolulu. Then we can sleep 
as many as thirty-four passengers. During the rest of the trip, 
however, we could carry as many as seventy-four on our list, 
besides the crew.” 

"When we leave Honolulu,” asked Jane Lee, "the flights are 
made by daylight, are they not?” 

"Yes,” responded Mr. Barton, "from there on, the hops to 
Midway, Wake, Guam, Manila, and China are flown during the 
day. Of course, we spend the afternoon and night on shore at 


15 






each stop to rest and refuel. We carry also a valuable cargo of 
mail and air express which we leave at these ports. At this time 
of year, the mail is exceptionally heavy because of the Christmas 
season/' 

Now the group approached the main lounge and recreation 
room which serves also as a dining saloon when tables are placed 
between chairs for the meal service. All fourteen seats were occu¬ 
pied, and a low hum of conversation filled the room. Mr. Barton 
introduced his youngest passenger, and all were surprised to learn 
that Timmy was on his way to Hong Kong alone. 

“Speaking of surprises," commented Jane Lee, “I think the 
most amazing feature of this ship is the utter stillness of these 
rooms. How did they ever muffle the sound of those four motors?" 

“By sound-proofing the entire craft," responded Mr. Barton, 
running his hand quickly over the wall. “The mohair cloth is 
an important factor in the process. It is snapped to the walls, 
allowing the sound waves to pass right on through. You will 
scarcely believe that even on the control deck the crew can make 
themselves heard without raising their voices." 

“The colors are nice on this ship," said Timmy, wishing to 
add something to the conversation. 

“Aren't they beautiful!" added Jane Lee, enthusiastically. “I 
know the names of the new shades. First, there is the Skyline 
Green, that lovely soft color of the rug back in our compartment. 
Next, there is the Miami Sand, the silvery-tan color used on the 
walls in this room. Then, of course, the Pan American Airways 
Blue is one of the most famous shades of all." 

“Right-o," said Mr. Barton approvingly. “The company se¬ 
lected all their colors with a great deal of thought. The tones 
had to be sufficiently bright to reflect light, yet not too bright 
because of the blinding glare above the clouds." 


16 



Now he opened a door and led the little group into a spotless 
kitchen. “This is the galley where my assistant and I prepare the 
meals and refreshments. It is completely equipped even to a refrig' 
erator and steam table.” 

“I smell something good,” said Timmy. “What are we going 
to have for dinner?” 

“A full course dinner,” Mr. Barton assured him, “and plenty 
of ice cream just for you.” 

Timmy stared about the galley. “But how are you going 
to cook everything?” he asked puzzled. 

“Dinner is brought aboard already cooked,” answered the 
Flight Steward. “All we do is to heat it up and help serve it. 
The food is kept warm in that cabinet by hot air discharged from 
one of the motors.” 

“What about breakfast?” asked Timmy eagerly. 


17 
















Everyone laughed at this, and Mr. Barton continued: You 
may have two breakfasts, Timmy, if you can hold them. One 
aboard the plane, and if you wish a later one at the Royal Hawaiian 
Hotel in Honolulu. 11 

Mr. Lang picked up a menu of the dinner to be served later. 
“It’s amazing to think how fast we travel when we consider the 
distance by meals instead of miles," he mused. '"Had we gone to 
Honolulu by boat, we should have eaten at least fifteen meals. 
By air, we eat only two!" 

Suddenly Timmy Blake began to realize what a great distance 
they were spanning so easily on this overnight flight to Hawaii. 
Why, tomorrow when the sun rose, he would be 2400 miles away 
from his California home. It seemed unbelievable! 

Finally he asked, "What time do we land in the morning? 1 

"By nine o'clock California time, but we gain two and a half 
hours flying west. This brings us into Honolulu at six-thirty in 
the morning. The time changes four minutes every degree on 
the map. However, we fly so fast that we need not set our watches 
back until morning." 

Mr. Lang said, "According to figures, I see that we will travel 
twenty-four hundred miles at one hundred and fifty miles an hour 
in sixteen hours!" 

Mr. Barton was much amused by this brief, clear-cut picture 
of the present flight. Beckoning to the three passengers, he led 
them into a hall which separated the galley from the men's room. 
Here he revealed to them an inter-phone by which he could com¬ 
municate with officers on the control deck. In addition to this, 
he also showed them a panel with signal lights that were con¬ 
nected to many call buttons throughout the plane. The stairway 
nearby, Timmy learned, led to the control room, the cargo holds, 
and the crews’ quarters. 


18 


“As complete in detail as a first-class hotel,” commented Mr. 
Lang. “I hear that you even have thermostatic control of your 
furnaces.” 

“Yes, we do, only our furnaces happen to be the exhaust 
from two of our motors. For that matter, one motor alone can 
supply enough heat to warm the entire ship.” 

At this moment, Jane Lee turned and called attention to the 
brilliant sunset where color seemed to drip from the sky like paint 
from her own artist’s brush. Flame-tipped clouds rolled below 
them in the path of the crimson sun. 

Timmy caught his breath and whistled. With his head against 
the window, he watched the sunset fade away into a smoldering 
twilight. Mr. Barton tapped his shoulder and led them all back 
into the lounge. “You will have to amuse yourselves for a while 
now,” he said, switching on the dome-lights in the ceiling. “I 
must do something to satisfy that hungry look you have worn 
since you first scanned our bill of fare.” 

Jane Lee suggested a game of checkers to which the others 
agreed unanimously. Most of the passengers were in a deep study 
over their bridge or backgammon games. But, still bewildered by 
the novelty of the giant ship, Timmy found it hard to keep his 
thoughts from straying. Presently he left the table and wandered 
back to the galley where Mr. Barton and his assistant were pre¬ 
paring dinner. 

“Just what would happen if our motors should stop on us 
right now?” Timmy inquired, trying to keep out of the way. 

Mr. Barton smiled reassuringly, “Hasn’t anyone told you how 
far we can coast with our motors shut off? There is very little 
danger, Timmy, because we contact ships by radio during the 
entire trip. In case of emergency, we would order a ship to stand 
by while we landed on the lee side.” 


19 


“But supposing we should run out of gas?” 

“That would be practically impossible. We carry enough fuel 
to fly us five thousand miles. The distance to Hawaii is less than 
half that. Even if our radio were to fail us, we could still find 
our way. Every one of our officers is a skilled navigator as well 
as aviator. Our position would be determined by the sun or stars 
just as sailors would do. These Clipper Ships, Timmy, in reality 
are flying boats.” 

Mr. Barton walked over to the galley window and looked out. 
Now the sun had dropped below the rim of the ocean and all 
that remained was a thin margin of gold. Suddenly he called to 
Timmy. “Speaking of boats,” he said, “we will pass one on our 
port side very soon.” 

Timmy raced back to the lounge to announce the news to 
Jane Lee and Mr. Lang. As the word spread quickly through 
the plane, the passengers gathered at the windows to view the 
approaching ship. Timmy raised the Venetian blinds so that 
everyone could see out. Gracefully then the Clipper Ship swooped 
low to salute the vessel. By now, long searchlights from the 
vessel’s deck swept the skies in blazing streaks. 

“Watch closely, Timmy,” said Mr. Barton. 

Obeying, Timmy saw the lights of the Clipper Ship flash off 
and on to signal the liner below. The lights of the vessel flashed 
quickly in return, and its searchlights played brilliantly across the 
wings of the Clipper Ship. 

Timmy pressed his warm face against the window and stared 
into the darkening night until the lights were no longer visible. 

Presently dinner was served, and he ate his savory meal 
with a keen appetite. When he had finished, he took a seat by 
the window and watched a pale winter moon creep slowly into 
the eastern sky. A few straggling wisps of cloud glowed in the 


20 


faint light like puffs of cotton. He closed his tired eyes to listen 
to the soft hum of the motors outside, and soon doz,ed off to 
sleep in his chair. 

A few minutes later, Mr. Barton roused him and led him to 
his made-up berth. Timmy crept in wearily and began to undress 
behind the dark blue curtains, taking care to hang his clothes on 
the convenient clothes rack. Snugly tucked under the fluffy blue 
blankets, he took a small black book from his bag and began to 
write the log of his first day of travel. Finished, he lay back upon 
his pillow and soon fell fast asleep. 

LOG BOOK 

SHIP: China Clipper, bound for China. 

POSITION: Mid-Pacific Ocean, 8000 feet high. 

TIME: 9:45 p.m. 

WITNESS: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, California. 

COMMENTS: 

Weather is clear and moonlight. I think this Clipper Ship is the most 
wonderful plane I have ever seen. I want to be a Pilot some day. It takes 
about six years to be a good Pilot. 

I wonder what Mother and Dad are thinking tonight ! If they could 
only see me now! Everyone is nice to me. I sure do like Miss Lee and 
Mr. Lang and Mr. Barton. Mr. Barton has promised a surprise on the 
way to Midway. He says I am going to do something that no one else is 
allowed to do. Wonder what it is? 

There are lots of nice people on board. That tall man with a beard 
looks like an explorer or something. Another man with a very pretty 
wife told me he had flown to China three times already. He said I will 
like Midway and Wake Islands. I can spear fish under water and every¬ 
thing out there. 

Fm too tired to write any more. Ahoy for Honolulu in the morning. 
, T. Blake 

DATE: December 17th. Wednesday. 



CHAPTER II 
A DAY IN HAWAII 


The first rays of the morning sun bathed the Clipper Ship in 
a shower of molten gold. It was nearing Hawaii now. Timmy 
awoke to the same muffled drone of motors overhead that had 
lulled him to sleep the night before. He arose quickly and dressed. 
Then he stole softly through the compartments, taking care not 
to arouse the other passengers who were sleeping behind the long 
line of blue curtains. To his delight he found Mr. Barton already 
in the galley preparing breakfast. 

"Hello, Timmy,” he greeted cheerily. "How did you enjoy 
your first night in the air?” 

"I didn’t wake up once,” returned the young passenger, grin- 
ning. Eagerly he reached for a glass of milk that Mr. Barton 
held toward him. 

"I suppose that you are wondering when we’ll first sight land,” 
the Flight Steward remarked. "According to the navigator we 
should sight Maui in about ten minutes.” 


22 









“Which island is Maui?” asked Timmy, frankly puzzled. 

Mr. Barton pursed his lips. “Someone’s geography needs 
brushing up,” he said. “Come into the lounge and we’ll find a 
map that will show you exactly where we are going.” 

Reaching the lounge, Mr. Barton took the map and began 
an interesting little talk about the islands they would soon see. 
“This is a map of the Hawaiian group,” he explained. “When 
you study it, you will see that it is dotted with a number of 
islands, small and large. All of them were formed by volcanic 
eruption. Most of the volcanoes are dead, but a few remain still 
active and flare up occasionally.” 

“Will I really see a volcano?” asked Tommy excitedly. 

“I’m afraid not, Timmy. Unfortunately, we don’t stop at the 
Island of Hawaii where Kilauea, the largest volcano in the world, 
is located. Our landing base is on the island of Oahu. Perhaps 
I’ll be able to point out a few dead craters as we fly by.” 

Timmy studied the map carefully in an effort to locate the 
islands. But his tongue failed him when he struggled to pronounce 
the names of the five largest. The greatest in size, he learned, is 
Hawaii. Above that are Maui, Molokai, Oahu, and Kauai. Hono- 
lulu, the landing port, is on Oahu. 

As the conversation went on, many of the other passengers 
drifted into the lounge. Soon a light breakfast was served which 
they ate slowly while gazing out the windows. Mr. Lang was 
the first to sight Maui, a vague dark speck in the blue haze of 
distance. But the dark speck quickly grew in size to a brown 
mountain glued to the ocean floor. 

Now the passengers began to gather in eager little groups. 
Jane Lee clutched Timmy’s arm and drew him again to the 
window to view the wide stretch of sun-swept sea, brown moun¬ 
tain peaks, and brilliant sky. 


23 


Presently two other small specks loomed on the horizon; 
brown specks that grew rapidly in size. As the plane approached 
Oahu, the ocean began to pale in color. Timmy watched the 
shadow of the plane below in fascination. Persistently it followed 
him from sea to land in a vain race to catch up. 

Now spreading beneath were dense groves of trees that shaded 
quaint native homes. Mr. Barton pointed out the distant Makapu 
Lighthouse and the Radio Station which had kept in touch with 
them continually throughout the night. 

“And there is Diamond Head, that long dark point jutting 
out into the sea, Timmy,” he said. “It was once a volcano, but 
now it is filled with earth. The United States Army has a fortress 
there. That other formation to the east is Punch Bowl, another 
extinct volcano. Recently an athletic field was built in the center.” 

Mr. Barton glanced at his watch. “If anyone has forgotten 
to set back his watch, he had better do so now,” he announced. 
“We have gained two and a half hours, which makes the time just 
6:23 A.M.” 

On flew the Clipper Ship, over the beautiful city of Honolulu 
with its long avenues of trees; over the ship'filled bay, and down 
into the quiet waters of Pearl Harbor. Lightly it came to rest as 
the bow merged into the shadow which had at last overtaken it. 

The first leg of the flight had ended. 

Soon the passengers were going ashore. Timmy was burning 
with excitement, his young heart thrilled by the shouts of happy 
people milling about the shore so early in the morning. Bronze" 
skinned natives thre\# garlands, or leis, woven of many colored 
flowers about the necks of the newcomers. As Timmy walked 
up the landing, a man came briskly forward and grasped his hand. 

“You're Timmy Blake, aren't you?” he asked. “I'm Mr. Clark, 
an old friend of your family's.” He looked down approvingly at 


24 



the strong, well-dressed youth before him. “Your parents asked 
me to show you about during your visit here.” 

Here Jane Lee stopped a moment and touched Timmy lightly 
on the shoulder. “I’m setting out to draw Hawaii,” she announced. 
“I’ll make a special picture for you of a Huma Huma Nukanuka 
Apuaa if I find one.” 

“What in the world is that?” frowned Timmy. 

Mr. Clark laughed, and Jane Lee called as she walked away, 
“It’s just a great Hawaiian name for a little fish.” 

At this moment, a boy and girl ran gaily up to Timmy and 
threw flower leis about his neck. Timmy was completely sur¬ 
prised until Mr. Clark introduced them as his son and daughter. 
Then Timmy was pleased to learn that he would spend the day 
in their company. 

“We will show you everything,” Teddy cried, as he steered 
Timmy from the terminal toward the family car. 


25 





Seated in the rear seat between Teddy and Betty Clark, 
Timmy found himself attracted to his companions. They were 
such happy children, with shining golden hair and faces suntanned 
from outdoor living. 

Swiftly the car whisked toward the city of Honolulu. On the 
way they passed through a number of sugar plantations that the 
young tourist viewed with great interest. Mr. Clark had lowered 
the top of the car so that Timmy could see as much of the coun¬ 
try as possible. 

‘‘Its rather a risk to drive with the top down on these islands,' 1 
remarked Mr. Clark. “One small cloud may drench us with a 
shower at any time. This often happens with the sun shining 
only fifty feet away." 

Nearing the city, Mr. Clark asked, “Are you all hungry?" 

The children replied emphatically that they were, so he drove 
on to the Royal Hawaiian Hotel at Waikiki beach and ordered 
a hearty breakfast. Between mouthfuls of food, Timmy described 
his trip to which the Clarks listened attentively. 

When they had finished, they returned to the car, and 
Mr. Clark drove slowly back through town. Timmy was thrilled 
by the sights along the streets. There were faces of all colors. 
Here, a Hindu walked sedately along, his turban and expensive 
clothing in odd contrast to the simple apparel of Chinese coolies 
and native Hawaiians. Timmy looked with pride at a United 
States Navy officer, spotless in his white uniform, 

Soon Timmy's sense of strangeness left him. Honolulu, after 
all, was a great deal like California. Automobiles swept through 
the palm-lined avenues. Street cars clanged their way noisily 
along the streets. People in modem dress hurried into office 
buildings and idled about shops and comers exactly as they did 
at home. 


26 





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When they had left the town behind, Betty leaned forward 
and said, “Let’s drive up to the Pali, Daddy. Then Timmy 
can see the whole island.” 

The Pali, which is a steep cliff, is located about six miles 
north of Honolulu. Driving there, Timmy passed many beautiful 
homes with shady lawns and thick clusters of shrubs. As the 
road became steeper, delicate waterfalls appeared like bits of filmy 
lace. Always they seemed to disappear into some canyon or 
crevasse halfway down the face of the cliff. 

Reaching the top, the party left their car and strolled to the 
brink of the Pali. Never, never would Timmy forget the sight 
that met his eyes. The districts of Kiluha and Lanakai lay below 
like a fairy garden bordering a sapphire sea. It was difficult to 
stand upon the cliff, and he had to brace himself to keep from 
being blown away by the strong wind. 

Teddy said gaily, “This is about the windiest spot in the 
world, I think.” 

After a time they left the Pali and followed the road down 
the side of the cliff. Here the surrounding hills were covered 
with patches of sugar cane and pineapple plants. To Timmy 
Blake the vast picture looked a great deal like a checkerboard 
of green fields and brown earth. Never before had he seen pine' 
apples grow, so he studied the plants closely. 

All that morning Mr. Clark drove about the island, stopping 
here and there to let the children eat and play. At one little 
eating place, Timmy had his first taste of poi, a native dish made 
from the pounded root of the taro plant. 

“You eat it with your fingers,” advised Teddy. “See?” He 
dipped his stubby forefinger into a bowl of the gray pasty mix' 
ture. Drawing it out, enough clung to his finger to enable him 
to lick it off with relish. 


28 



"This is one-finger poi ,” said Betty. "Two-finger poi is thinner, 
and three-finger poi is thinnest of them all/' 

Timmy did not enjoy the taste of poi at all. But this was fun 
anyway, so he tried his best to keep up with the others. 

The little group lingered until after lunch when Mr. Clark 
said, "We had better return if we hope to have a swim this 
afternoon.” 

On the way to Waikiki, he stopped long enough to permit 
Timmy to visit the world-famous fish market on King Street. 
Here the boy saw rows and rows of all species of fish set out 
on tables waiting to be sold. There were fish of every size and 
shape and color, even eels and sharks. 

"Now,” said Mr. Clark, guiding them back to the car once 
more, "I'll take you out to the Aquarium where you may see 
these fish swimming around in water.” 

"Is there an aquarium here, too?” asked Timmy in surprise. 


29 


“Quite as fine as the one you have in San Francisco, 11 said 
Mr. Clark. 

Entering the Aquarium, Timmy and the Clark children 
watched hundreds of fish swim slowly about in their attractive 
glass homes—strange fish with long feathery tails, and others that 
looked like flowers. Most of them were splashed with brilliant 
colors. 

Reaching the hotel where Timmy and the other Clipper Ship 
passengers were to spend the night, the group changed into 
bathing suits and raced down the sandy beach. 

“I don't swim very much in the winter, 11 said Timmy. 

“There is no winter in Hawaii, 11 cried Betty, drawing her 
toes through the warm sand. “The water is always warm here. 11 

Timmy lay back upon the sand and placed his hands beneath 
his head. Dreamily he stared into the blue sky above. “What 
does the word Waikiki mean? 11 he asked thoughtfully. 

“It means Spouting Waters, 11 answered Mr. Clark. “At times 
when the wind is strong it blows a spray from the waves that is 
almost as thick as a fog. It is truly a beautiful sight. 11 

He had scarcely finished speaking when an Hawaiian boy 
came up to them. In the warm sunlight his copper skin gleamed, 
and Timmy stared in admiration at his sinewy muscles. The 
native boy spoke in a low voice to Mr. Clark who turned toward 
the children with a smile. 

“Would you like to ride in an outrigger before you swim? 11 

The children shouted their replies and waited impatiently 
while the bronzed native dragged a canoe down the sands from 
the Outrigger Club. Then they leaped in and Mr. Clark and 
the beaclvboy paddled skilfully out through the long rolling surf. 
The arm of the outrigger rose and fell gracefully as they slid over 
the waves. 


30 



Presently they turned the canoe toward shore. The beach' 
boy waited until a large swell rose just behind them. “Here 
comes a good one,” he called. 

Then Timmy experienced a thrill such as he had known only 
aboard the Clipper Ship. Gently the canoe was lifted high upon 
the crest of a wave. For just one second it remained thus. Then 
like an arrow from a bow, it shot forward at a breath-taking 
speed until it reached the shore. 

“Wow!” cried Timmy on shore again. “What a ride! I’ll 
bet we were going fifty miles an hour.” 

“And now I’ll show you something else,” called Teddy as 
he ran down the beach. 

Shortly he returned, followed by the beach-boy who carried 
three long boards. These boards were made of hollow wood to 
ride the waves with greater speed. He gave one to Timmy who 


31 


awkwardly pushed his way through the shallow water for what 
seemed miles. 

"How far can you wade out?" he called to Betty who was 
ahead of him. 

"Oh, for a long, long way," she returned. "But you don't 
have to worry about sharks. That coral reef keeps them outside." 

When the children did reach deeper water, they caught a 
wave and rode shoreward on their boards. The Clarks were 
clever at this sport. They tried to teach Timmy to stand and 
ride. It was great fun but very difficult to do. 

With a shake of his head, the boy said, "I guess it'll take me 
longer than one day to learn." 

Thus the happy day in Honolulu came to an end. That 
evening Mrs. Clark drove out to Waikiki to join the party at 
dinner in the hotel. She proved to be a very pleasant woman 
who had known Timmy's own mother for many years. After 
dinner, they all accompanied Timmy upstairs to his room and 
said goodnight. 

"We'll see you at the terminal in the morning," Mr. Clark 
promised. 

Before undressing, Timmy decided to make the day's entry 
in his log book. Wearily he held it in his arm as he stared sleepily 
out the open window. The soft Hawaiian night was warm and 
fragrant. A pale winter moon shone white through the papaya 
and wind-swept palms. Here and there Christmas lights twinkled 
merrily in the gardens. 

" Somewhere he heard the faint strains of an Hawaiian orchestra 
strumming softly the songs of the islands; songs that told of the 
First People coming in their canoes from the west; songs that 
told of the volcanoes and the goddess, Pele, who lived in the 
crater of Kilauea. 


32 


Timmy was very happy. Some day he wanted to come back 
and stay for a long, long time. 

LOG BOOK 

SHIP: Ashore at Royal Hawaiian Hotel. 

POSITION: Oahu Island, Hawaii (2,400 miles from U.S.A.) 

TIME: 9:30 p.m. 

WITNESS: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, California. 

COMMENTS: 

Weather clear and warm. Hawaii is damp and green. There are lots 
of big spiders here, but people like them because they eat up insects. 
They don't want any California insects to get in here, so we had to throw 
away all our presents of flowers and fruits on the Clipper Ship. I saw 
Mr. Barton open a hatch and do this long before we landed. 

The Clarks are very nice people. I hated to say goodbye to them. 
They helped me buy some Christmas presents to send home to Mother 
and Dad. I bought a tapa cloth for Mother. It is funny stuff like heavy 
paper with designs pounded on it. I bought a carved smoking set and a 
real Hawaiian sport shirt for Dad. I bought some hula dolls with grass 
skirts for fun. 

I saw Mr. Barton in the lobby tonight. He told me to be sure to wake 
up early. We fly to Midway tomorrow morning at eight. I can hardly 
wait to see Midway and all its gooney birds! 

Lights out, 

DATE: Thursday, December 18th. T. Blake 




CHAPTER III 
ON TO MIDWAY 


The sky was dense with clouds the next morning when the 
passengers of the Clipper Ship returned to Pearl Harbor. But 
the sun broke through as they reached the Pan American Air¬ 
ways terminal, and a brilliant rainbow spanned the heavens. 

“Hawaii bids a colorful good-bye/' said red-haired Jane Lee, 
sitting dreamily in the car beside Timmy. 

“Rainbow in the morning, sailors take warning," quoted 
Timmy, wondering if it would be a stormy trip. 

At the landing, he saw that new passengers were in line to 
go aboard. Now that the remainder of the trip was to be made 
solely by daylight hops, the ship could hold a greater number 
of people. 

At eight o'clock the Clarks arrived weighted down with 
flower leis which they gave to the boy. They had barely time 
to bid him Aloha, or good-bye, when the terminal door was 
thrown open and the passengers streamed aboard. 


34 


Timmy waved farewell from the window as the plane pulled 
slowly from the landing. The motors seemed to wail “Aloha,” 
too, as they raised the great ship into the sky once more. Look' 
ing down, the boy could see many gray battleships at anchor in 
the harbor. Toy ships they were now; toy ships in a toy harbor 
that were erased from view as the plane's nose plowed suddenly 
into a bank of clouds. 

A fine rain began to beat against the windows, and for the 
first time Timmy understood the meaning of blind flying. He 
was, perhaps, three thousand feet in the air and climbing steadily, 
his vision blotted out by a gray mist. Yet, in this comfortable 
modem plane, he felt quite as secure and warm as he would feel 
in his own home. 

Shortly Mr. Barton entered the compartment. “Come into 
the hall with me,” he said. “I’m putting through a call to the 
control deck. I think I have that surprise ready now.” 

Timmy’s blue eyes danced with excitement. Mr. Barton had 
said that he was going to call the control deck. Perhaps he, 
Timmy Blake, would be allowed to see how the officers directed 
this great ship from above. His heart beat rapidly as he waited 
for Mr. Barton to complete the call. 

“You’re a lucky boy, Timmy,” said the Flight Steward re' 
placing the phone. “Captain Day says to bring you up. This 
is a very special honor, remember. We seldom allow passengers 
above.” 

Timmy needed no urging. He quickly followed Mr. Barton 
up the winding stairs to the bridge. This proved to be a small, 
black, glare'proof compartment where the First and Second Pilots 
sat at dual controls. Just below the windshields were twin instru' 
ment boards. On these boards were countless push buttons, dials, 
and switches. Extending from the floor were pedals and levers. 


35 





W CONTROL CABIN 


DOORTOANCHOR ROOM-/ 


PlLOTS'lNSTRUMENT 

PANEL 

PILOTS CONTROL\ 
STAND 

FIRST PILOT - 

NAVIGATORS - 

CABINET 

NAVIGATORS - 

CHART TABLE 

NAVIGATION — 
INSTRUMENTS 
MASTERS DESK 

DOOR TO 
PORT ENGINES 


GYRO 

SECOND 
PILOT 

STAIRS TO 
PASSENGER DECK 

RADIO STATION 

FLIGHT ENGINEERS! 
STATION 

POWER PLANT 
INSTRUMENTS 

DOOR TO 
STARBOARO 
ENGINES 

DOORTO , 
NAVIGATORS 
TOWER 

I ri ; 'v‘Yrii 


The First Pilot sat on the left. His name was Mr. Nelson. As 
he smiled at Timmy, his teeth gleamed in a suntanned face. 

“Think you could ever learn to manage all these instruments?” 
he inquired as Timmy stared fascinated. “Watch closely now and 
I’ll show you how some of them work. For instance, these dials 
show every movement of the plane. The levers, pedals, and 
switches control the ailerons, elevators, and stabilizers. We also 
control the motors from here if necessary.” 

Timmy was overwhelmed by the movements of the array of 
instruments before him. “If you think we have a great deal to do,” 
said the Second Pilot, “wait until you see how many instruments 
the officers inside use.” 

Now Captain Day appeared in the doorway. He was a tall, 
heavy-set man, ruddy of face and merry-eyed. He was reputed 
to be one of the world’s finest aviators. “So you are Timmy 
Blake,” he began in a pleasant voice. He shook Timmy’s hand 


36 
























and invited him inside to view the navigation and radio room. 

Reaching there, Timmy saw the Navigator, the Radio Open 
ator, and the Flight Engineer at work before their tables. They, 
too, were busy studying strange dials that covered the walls of 
the room about them. As Timmy drew up, they nodded and 
said a brief “Hello.” But that was all. 

Captain Day led the boy to a double seat at the rear of the 
room. “I suppose,” he remarked, “that like all boys, you are 
keenly interested in flying. So I am going to describe briefly a 
few of the more important things that are involved in flying a 
Clipper Ship.” 

He looked kindly down into Timmy’s eager young face. 
“First of all, let me say that the task of flying begins long before 
we ever leave the ground. By that, I mean the study of weather 
conditions. Before we actually take off, we must have a full 
knowledge of the weather that lies before us when we attempt 
a flight across the ocean. So groups of men study for weeks ahead 
of our scheduled flying time. Each day they make weather maps 
that show exactly the different conditions at every point along 
the way. Before our take-off, we are given what we term a 
flight forecast.” 

Here the Captain arose and walked over to the table to pick 
up a sheaf of papers. “This is one,” he continued, “that tells 
us at what altitude we must fly to reach the most favorable 
winds. We ride these winds to carry us along, you see. We call 
them tail winds. For example, we are flying at eight thousand 
feet where a twenty-mile tail wind is blowing. When we are 
nine hundred miles out, we are instructed to climb to ten thou¬ 
sand feet to meet another westward ‘blow’. All this saves fuel 
and helps us to reach our port more quickly.” 

He paused here to read a report from the Radio Officer before 

37 


continuing. “The Radio Operator is sending out a flight O.K. 
right now. Every thirty minutes he radioes our exact position to 
bases on land. In this he gives both our position and existing 
weather conditions. The Navigation Officer records this in the 
log book. Our ships also use the radio telephone system as well 
as the radio dot-and-dash method to send out messages.” 

Timmy had listened quietly to the Captain who arose from 
his seat with a nod of dismissal. “I can’t give you any more time 
today,” he said, “but before you leave, I’d like to show you our 
motors at work.” 

He walked over to open a small door, and the roar of the 
engines became so loud that the Captain almost had to shout 
in order to be heard. “The rears of the motors are open,” he 
continued. “We can stop one, if necessary, to put in new parts. 
For that matter, we have been able to stop both motors on one 
side of the ship in test flights without losing altitude. Quite a 
remarkable ship, we think!” 

Timmy’s head whirled as he thought of all this powerful 
machinery flying through the air. It seemed almost unbelievable! 
He was burning with a thousand questions, but he knew that 
Captain Day was a busy man and that his visit to the control 
deck had come to an end. 

On the way out, the boy hesitated beside Pilot Nelson for just 
a moment. “Do you like to fly these giant planes better than 
lighter ships?” he asked, staring with awe at the four great 
motors whirring outside. 

“Yes, I do,” the Pilot replied. “These ships handle as easily 
as the smallest plane made. And it’s a great relief to be able to 
talk up here without shouting.” 

With that, the boy waved good-bye to those about him and 
hurried below to the passenger deck. He was eager to find 


38 





SAND ISLANb 


eastern 

ISLAND 


1.RA.A. HOTEL 
X. POND 

3. AIRPORT MANAGER 
4-P.A.A. LARGE DOCK 
5. SHOPS * STOREROOM 
b.QUARTERS ■+- 
RECREATION CENTER 
7. GOONEYVILLE 
5.VEGETABLE GARDENS 


M. COMMERCIAL CABLE 
CO. COMPOUND 

10. TENNIS COURT 

11. CABLE CO. DOCK 

12. PA.A. SMALL DOCK 

13. MOORING BARGE 


SAND ISLAND 

(l$ Ml. LONG- $ Ml. WIDE) 


MID WAY 


DISTKHCB FROM CAUF*t 3,703 
TIME CHANGE : 4 HOURS 


FINEST COR/SV- BEACH 
IN THE WORLD. 

















Jane Lee and Mr. Lang to tell them about all that he had seen. 

“Teacher’s pet!” wailed Jane Lee when she heard the news. 
“I wish I could rate a trip upstairs.” 

“I’d like to be the baby on this flight, myself,” teased Mr. 
Lang. He drew up a chair as the others sat down to luncheon. 
Despite his hunger, Timmy could scarcely find time to eat, so 
full of information was he about the control deck which he had 
just seen. 

When luncheon was over, the passengers began to regard the 
time with a new tingle of excitement. Small groups idled by the 
windows in an effort to catch a first glimpse of Midway Island. 
They had long since cleared the storm, and a bright sun made 
the sea look as if it were sprinkled with a million shining dia^ 
monds. 

Suddenly Mr. Barton announced, “There’s Midway, now!” 
He pointed to a circle of white toward which they were flying. 
“See the waves breaking over the coral reef? The inner spots 
are Sand and Eastern Islands.” 

Timmy pressed his nose against the window. Plainly now 
he could see two small sand islands in the center of a vivid 
lagoon. As they descended, a group of yellow buildings with 
red roofs came into view on the larger island. There were so few 
trees or shrubs that the buildings stood out boldly. 

“There is quite a settlement on Midway,” said the Flight 
Steward. “We have our own power house, refrigeration plant, 
warehouse, hotel, and numerous other buildings.” 

Mr. Lang asked, “What are those buildings on the far side 
of the island?” 

“The Pacific Cable Company Compound. They were begun 
over thirty years ago when the first cable was laid across the 
ocean. Since then the company has built sidewalks, tennis courts, 


40 


and even a golf course for its employees. They play golf here 
with red golf balls, and use greens of carpet rather than grass.” 

“Oh, look at all those birds!” cried Timmy as he watched 
a host of birds wheeling above the island in an endless circle. 

“Midway is a birds’ sanctuary,” said Mr. Barton. “The gov¬ 
ernment protects them, and they practically own the island.” 

Now the Clipper Ship glided into the lagoon for the landing. 
With a soft swirl of spray it touched the crystal-clear waters, 
and the second leg of the flight to China came to an end. 

As the motors ceased, a launch approached from the long 
pier to moor the plane to a large white barge from which flew 
both the American and Pan American Airways flags. The passen¬ 
gers were taken ashore in the launch which was named the 
Panair. 

Ashore, Timmy marvelled at such beautiful clear water and 
such gleaming white sand. 

“Did you ever see a finer beach?” called Jane Lee from her 
seat in the station wagon at the pier. Midway boasted two of 
these cars which carried the passengers across the long sandy 
road to the hotel. 

“Our Midway beach is rated to be one of the finest in the 
world,” said the Flight Steward as he helped the passengers into 
the cars. “The sand is composed entirely of powdered coral. 
When you walk upon it, it is as soft as velvet underfoot. And 
it has no bum nor glare.” 

In his hotel room, Timmy pulled off his clothes and donned 
his bathing trunks. It was already past two o’clock, and he was 
impatient to explore this strange small island in the midst of 
the great Pacific Ocean. 

He found Mr. Lang and Jane Lee in the lobby talking to the 
resident radio operator whose name was Hans Larson. Like most 


41 


men on the island, he was wearing white shorts and a polo shirt. 

Timmy bounded up and Jane Lee introduced him as the 
youngest passenger on the trip. “How long have you been out 
here, Mr. Larson?” asked the boy, following the group from 
the hotel into the brisk outdoors. 

“This is my second stay,” the man replied. “We company 
men are sent here for a period of six months at a time. It’s never 
tiresome because we are kept so busy that the time passes 
rapidly.” 

At this moment, Timmy’s alert young eyes fell upon a group 
of strange birds on the lawn. “There are some more gooney 
birds,” he cried. “They are all over the island, aren’t they?” 

“Yes,” cried Jane Lee, “and I am going to paint flocks of 
them. Make them pose for me, Timmy.” 

Timmy crept slowly toward one of the larger birds. He was 
indeed a queer fellow about the size of a goose, with a long 
yellow beak and funny button eyes like those of a painted doll. 
As Timmy drew near, the bird began to clack his bill and shake 
his head. The boy held out his hand, and the curious bird 
actually began to nibble his fingertips. 

Jane Lee wanted to draw the two as they stood thus. The 
boy was so alive, his eyes sparkling with happiness and his thick 
brown hair shining in the bright sunlight. 

Then Timmy made the mistake of running across the road 
toward another group of great black birds. 

“Come back!” commanded Mr. Larson hastily. “You mustn’t 
touch .those fellows. They are black-footed gooneys, and have 
nasty dispositions. Don’t let one bite you, or you’ll know what 
I mean. They are of the albatross family, but they are scavengers 
and we don’t like them.” 

Timmy obeyed promptly, and now the four idled slowly 


42 



through the main street of Midway. Down the boardwalk they 
trekked, past the yellow company buildings to the wonderful 
white beach. Here and there Timmy saw gooney birds nesting 
in holes which they had dug in the sand. 

As they reached the beach, Mr. Larson pointed out another 
group of gooney birds nearby. “Now watch them do their famous 
dance,” he said, with a gleam of interest in his eyes. “You really 
ought to have a motion picture of them to appreciate their antics.” 

Timmy stood fascinated by their weird movements. Two of 
the birds danced opposite each other. First they arched their 
necks alternately. Then they dropped their heads to the ground 
and lifted them up to touch beaks. At intervals one would tuck 
his head beneath his wing and wait until the other began the dance 
all over again. Gradually a circle of birds gathered about to watch 
while on the two danced and danced and danced. When one 
finally grew tired and dropped out, another stepped into its place 
and the dance continued. 


43 



“Where do gooney birds come from?” asked Jane Lee as she 
sat down upon the creamy sand. 

Mr. Larson stretched out beside her. The others followed 
suit. “For a greater part of the year,” he replied, “gooney birds 
fly at sea, not landing even during storms. In due time, however, 
they come in to mate and hatch their young. They arrive about 
the middle of October. We islanders have a habit of making bets 
on the day they will first appear. When the breeding season is 
over, they leave just as suddenly as they came. This departure 
takes place about the twenty-first of June. Gooney birds are really 
albatross, the most perfect flying birds in the world. They are 
Nature’s own airplanes.” 

“I saw other birds over there in the trees,” said Timmy. 

“Oh, yes, there are dozens of different birds on Midway. The 
canaries are very popular. Each afternoon we feed them on the 
porch of the Cable Company’s administration building. Then 
we have the wedge-tailed shearwaters, commonly called moaning 
birds, who dig holes in the sand like the gooneys. At night they 
moan like crying babies. They fly about only after dark and are 
evidently quite blind because they crash into poles and trees 
without seeing them. 

“Another interesting bird is the beautiful white tern which 
you can see over the water now. The two long red feathers in 
its tail help to balance the bird while in flight. It lays a delicately 
speckled egg directly on the limb of the wild magnolia bushes. 
Although it never bothers to build a nest, its eggs are seldom 
harmed except when blown off by the wind. Then we have still 
other birds such as rails, finches, boobies, frigates, and bosun 
birds. Sometimes I wonder why this wasn’t named Bird Island 
instead of Midway.” 

A silence fell upon the group as they studied the brilliant sky 


44 


and clear lagoon before them. Suddenly Jane Lee put down her 
sketch pad and ran toward the water for a swim. The others 
soon followed to find the water as soft as velvet to their touch. 

Timmy swam out a short distance and opened his eyes under 
water to watch bnght'colored fish drifting about the coral heads 
below him. 

“It’s a shame you can’t stay with us for a time,” said Mr. 
Larson, regretfully, as the party returned to the beach. “I would 
especially like to take you deep'sea fishing outside the reef. 
People who want something different always find Midway the 
answer.” 

“I’m getting cold,” interrupted Jane Lee, shivering in the 
cool wind. “I’m going to run a bit to get warm.” 

“You had better put on your tennis shoes if you go beyond 
the beach,” warned Mr. Larson. “The coral will cut your feet.” 

Timmy raced after Jane Lee and overtook her. Presently they 
sat down to catch their breath. It was then that the boy spied 
some strange tracks on the sand beside him. 

“Let’s follow them,” he cried. “I’d like to see what made 
them!” 

Rounding a bend, they were surprised to come upon a large 
green turtle fast asleep, with its head tucked neatly into the 
sand. 

“Shh!” whispered Jane. “Creep up and ride on its back out 
into the water.” 

Timmy thought this an excellent idea. Carefully he pro- 
ceeded, then with a loud shout he leaped upon the startled turtle’s 
back and clung tightly as it moved clumsily toward the water. 
But only for a moment! Suddenly the turtle dove to the bottom 
of the lagoon and Timmy was very happy to let go! 

The boy returned to Jane Lee with his hair dripping and salt 
45 



water in his eyes. “I guess that really was turning turtle/’ he ex¬ 
claimed as they both laughed. “I wish I could find another turtle 
for you to ride, Miss Lee.” 

“Oh, no,” chuckled Jane Lee as she glanced at the sky. “It’s 
getting too late for that. We must hurry back to the hotel for 
dinner.” 

Dressed once more, though very tired, Timmy managed to 
eat an enormous meal. Never had he been quite so hungry. 
Strangely enough, he was served a bowl of green turtle soup 
which caused a great deal of merriment among those who had 
heard of his turtleback ride that afternoon. 

“Perhaps we’ll be able to make you a member of the Goofy 
Gooney Club,” exclaimed Mr. Larson. “That ride should entitle 
you to a charter membership.” 


46 






After dinner, Timmy left his friends very early and returned 
to his room. There he jotted down the incidents of the day, then 
crept sleepily into bed. 

He closed his eyes and lay very still, listening to the rhythm 
of the surf as it broke upon the distant coral reef. Once he was 
startled to hear the shrill cry of a shearwater as it flew blindly past 
his hotel window. But that was all he remembered until he woke 
to find that a new day had begun. 

LOG BOOK 

SHIP: Ashore at the Pan American Hotel. 

POSITION: Midway, 3,703 miles from California. 

TIME: 8:45 p.m. (iy 2 hour change from Honolulu). 

WITNESS: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, California. 

COMMENTS: 

Weather clear and cool. Here I am in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. 
This island was named Midway because it is halfway between California 
and the Philippines. Mr. Barton said that lots of old sailing vessels have 
crashed on the coral reef around Midway. One old ship was named the 
Wandering Minstrel. Seems funny to think that this could have been 
called a desert island. 

I like the gooney birds. I wish I could take one home for a pet, I don’t 
like the shearwaters, though. I fell into too many of the holes they dug 
in the sand. 

The thing I liked best today was my turtle ride. It was fun, only the 
turtle didn’t seem to like it. Miss Lee said she would draw a cartoon 
of me going into the water on the turtle’s back. I am going to send it to 
Mother and Dad for a little Christmas present. 

We leave for Wake in the morning. I saw the mechanics going over 
every part of the Clipper Ship tonight. They were going to load it with 
gasoline later. 

Am sleepy now. . . . Wake tomorrow. . . . 

T. Blake 

DATE: Friday, December 19th. 


47 



CHAPTER IV 

WAKE ISLAND AND A MYSTERY STORY 

Greeting the morning sun, the Clipper Ship skimmed above 
the spray upon the coral reef and started west once more. This 
was to be one of the shortest flights of the trip with Wake but 
eight hours flying time away. 

With a pang of real regret Timmy watched the little island 
of Midway disappear from sight. Over it hovered a dense cloud 
of birds rippling like the waves of the sea below. Soon all that 
remained in the distance was an endless stretch of sea. For a long 
while now Timmy sat by the window watching the whitecaps 
running high. To pass away the time, he munched slowly on a 
banana which he had taken from a basket on a nearby table. 

After a while Mr. Barton entered the compartment to an¬ 
nounce that all passengers were invited to the main lounge at 
8:30 A.M. Immediately the passengers became curious. Promptly 
at the given hour they gathered in the lounge and lined up on 
one side of the room behind a white ribbon laid on the floor. 


48 











Look at your watches,” said Mr. Barton from the doorway. 
He stood beside Captain Day who had joined the p ass engers to 
watch the fun. 

“Now!” said the Flight Steward as, one by one, he led them 
over the ribbon to the opposite side of the room. “You have just 
crossed the International Date Line from yesterday into today. 
One minute ago it was Saturday. Now it is Sunday. In other 
words, in one minute we have dropped a whole day!” 

Then amid much talking and laughter, he handed out small 
toy gooney birds as souvenirs. 

Timmy was frankly puzzled by the time problem. Seeing the 
frown upon his young face, Mr. Barton tried to explain it in 
simple words. “You remember, Timmy, that we set our watches 
back two and onedialf hours for the time we gained when we 
reached Honolulu. At Midway we gained still another hour and a 
half. We have to regulate the time this way because the sun 
doesn’t shine on all parts of the world at once. So, to keep the 
days correct, an imaginary line has been drawn from pole to pole 
through the center of the earth. When this line is crossed going 
west as we are now, a whole day is gained. When we return, a 
day is lost.” 

Timmy began to understand, but it was still a bit confusing. 
He glanced at his wrist watch and sighed. Time had always seemed 
a simple thing to him before. He wondered if he would ever be 
able to explain the International Date Line to his friends at home. 

A gnawing hunger soon made him forget his problem, as he 
made his way to the galley to watch the preparations for luncheon. 
When the meal was over, he had quite forgotten that Saturday 
had turned to Sunday early that morning. 

One of the passengers picked up a checkerboard and invited 
Timmy to play a game with him. Timmy agreed, and was almost 


49 


ready to take his place at the table when his keen eyes caught a 
glimpse of a small dark blot against the horizon. At first it was 
hard to tell whether it was a cloud shadow or solid ground. Then, 
sure of himself, he shouted gleefully, “I see Wake Island!' 1 He 
was proud of the fact that he had been the first passenger to dis¬ 
cover the new port. 

Shortly now a small group of three islands were spread below 
like dark jewels in the tropical sea. They are set in the center 
of a bright lagoon framed by a foaming coral reef. The names 
of the islands are Peale, Wake, and Wilkes. Here the growth of 
trees and shrubs is distinctly more tropical than on the island 
they had left behind. 

"Wake was a small, lonely group of islands until the coming 
of the Clipper Ships, 11 said Mr. Barton. "Now there is a colony 
on the most important, Peale Island, quite as large as Midway. 
It has shops, refrigeration and power plants, and a very modem 
hotel. The inhabitants have kept busy building coral summer 
houses, a tennis court, and an archery course for recreation. It 
is always warm here, and the islanders as well as guests may enjoy 
sports the year 'round. 11 

Now the Clipper Ship circled low for the landing. Easily it 
slipped into the emerald-like waters of the lagoon and pulled up 
to the barge moored at the end of the pier. 

With the opening of the hatches, Timmy ran down the gang¬ 
plank and over the landing to shore, waiting for the others to 
follow. There were no station wagons to meet them here, for the 
hotel was only a short walk away. 

In his room, Timmy hastened once more to don his bathing 
trunks and polo shirt. Light clothes are popular here because 
the weather is always warm. 

Outside he spotted Jane Lee's vivid hair in a group of passen- 


50 





DISTANCE FROM CALIF.-. 4,893 Ml. 

DATE CHANGE : ONE DAY 
TIME CHANGE i 5 HOURS 
THREE ISLANDS s WILKES, 
WAKE, PEALE. 


n i mn iBwn wni j t 


1 LANDING- 7. TOWERS FOR 

JL. WAKE ANCHOR RADIO TRANS- 
MAINTENANCE MITTINfr STA 
•* RADIO QUARTERS 8. RADIO DIREC 

4. hospital tion findef 

5. TENNIS COURT 9. SHOPS AND 
b. P.A.A. HOTEL WAREHOUSE' 

**' lO- BOATS 
11. PATHS 

, la. SANOSPIT BUOY 
13. WATER POND 













gers which had gathered by the large circular pool before the 
hotel entrance. This is a combination fishpond and cooler for 
the island refrigeration plant. There is no natural water supply 
on Wake. Yet it rains often enough to provide the islanders with 
all the water they need. The water is caught in the drains on 
roofs and carried into wells. From there it is pumped by wind' 
mills into storage tanks. 

As Timmy approached, Mr. Barton beckoned to him from a 
shell'Studded bench beside the pond. “Come here, Timmy,” he 
called, “and meet the friendliest fish on the island.” He bent over 
and dipped his arm into the water and wiggled his fingers. Then 
Timmy received the surprise of his life. A beautiful striped fish 
swam up to the pool's edge and slid into the palm of the Flight 
Steward's hand. Quietly it lay there and allowed the man to stroke 
its long blue nose and back. 

“You try it,” said Mr. Barton with a nod. 

Timmy was anxious to obey, and he felt a keen thrill as the 
tame fish slid into his own palm. Very cautiously he began to 
stroke the nose of the fish exactly as the Flight Steward had done. 
“Why, he loves to be petted!” the boy cried in delight. “What 
sort of fish is he?” 

“We call him a submarine fish,” said Mr. Barton, “but he is 
officially known as a striped trigger fish. In Hawaii, he is called 
the Huma Huma Nukanuka Apuaa. They sing many Hawaiian 
songs about his kind.” 

“Remember, I drew you a picture of one, Timmy,” reminded 
Jane Lee who had been watching the boy with interest. 

“And, now, there are other things to see and do,” said Mr. 
Barton, pointing toward the lagoon. “Supposing we go for a 
sail, Timmy. The others will find plenty to do around here with' 
out us.” 


52 



“Good!” replied the boy. “Do you have a real sailboat?” 

“We surely do, and there’s enough breeze to give us a brisk 
little sail.” 

Together they strolled down the white sand path beneath a 
canopy of magnolia trees. Presently they met Captain Day, fresh 
and cool in white ducks and spotless polo shirt. He was on his 
way to the tennis court, yet he stopped to chat for a moment 
before going on. “I have some news for you, Timmy,” he an¬ 
nounced. “We’re going to be held over a day. There’s a storm 
between Wake and Guam that must clear up before we go on. 
Think you can keep busy?” 

“Yes, sir, I’m sure I can,” said Timmy. “Anyhow, I like it 
here.” He stood for a moment staring about the colorful little 
island, his hands on hips, his blue eyes alight with interest, and 
the wind blowing his brown hair awry. 


53 












“I'm going to take the young man spearfishing under water,” 
promised Mr. Barton. “Now that we are due to lay over, we'll 
go tomorrow.” 

Timmy turned a handspring, unable to conceal his joy. He 
had heard so much about spearfishing that he could hardly wait 
for the morning. 

Then Captain Day left them, and the two continued toward 
the pier. Reaching the anchored sailboat, Timmy helped Mr. 
Barton raise the small mains!, and they glided swiftly over the 
clear green waters of the lagoon. Not far away, Timmy could see 
the other islands nestled inside the coral reef. 

“Those are Wilkes and Wake Islands,” said Mr. Barton, fob 
lowing Timmy's gaze. “We have a small railroad two blocks long 
on Wilkes. It leads from the ocean to the lagoon. When Midway 
and Wake were first settled a few years ago, a large ship called the 
North Haven brought out all the supplies. As the ship was too 
large to cross the reef, a railroad was built to haul supplies to small 
barges in the lagoon. From there the equipment was transferred 
to Peale Island where our base is located. Peale was the only island 
of this group that showed no signs of having been flooded by 
storms.” 

After an hour of idle drifting, the Flight Steward turned the 
boat around, and they sailed slowly shoreward. Timmy lay back 
and stared with quiet eyes at his colorful surroundings. Above 
him a cloud of white birds circled like living planes. The reflection 
of the brilliant waters cast a blue glow on the under part of their 
wings. Beyond him the soft waters of the lagoon glistened in the 
sunlight, unruffled save where the surf burst into a foamy spray 
over the coral reef. 

Now Mr. Barton pulled a small glass'bottomed box from under 
the seat and handed it to the boy. “Hold this over the side and 


54 



you can easily see the floor of the lagoon,” he said. “There are 
more varieties of tropical fish down there than in any other place 
in the entire world.” 

Holding the glass over the side, Timmy viewed an exciting pic- 
ture of a world such as he had never dreamed existed. Somehow 
he had never even thought of beauty below the sea. But there it 
lay like a picture book; a world of rainbow'colored, flowerdike fish, 
pearly shells, and magic coral formations. 

He wished suddenly that Jane Lee and Mr. Lang were with 
him to enjoy this sight. But already the sun was sinking in the 
west, casting a path of gold upon the green water. Now the Flight 
Steward anchored the boat, and the two walked slowly back to the 
hotel. 

Later, when the boy entered the dining room for dinner, he 
found Jane Lee and Mr. Lang awaiting him at a table. 


55 





“We’ve had such a grand afternoon,” sighed the young woman. 
“We played tennis and tried a bit of archery. Then we explored 
every nook and cranny on the island.” 

But Timmy's own thoughts were filled with rainbow-colored 
fish and coral flowers, and the thrilling plan of spearfishing on the 
morrow. Between mouthfuls of food, he related many of his 
adventures. 

“Let me go along to sketch you spearfishing,” begged Jane Lee. 
“I’ll promise to keep out of your way.” 

Mr. Barton agreed that she should go with them, and she 
gave him a grateful smile. 

Dinner over, Mr. Barton took them all for a stroll in the moon¬ 
light. The air was balmy, and the sky studded with a million stars. 
As they walked through a small tree-filled park, Timmy spied a 
large anchor outlined against the sky. Running over to investigate, 
he found that it was mounted on a cement base. In response to 
the question in the boy's eyes, Mr. Barton told him that it was all 
that remained to mark the fate of the unfortunate ship Libelle. 

“It's a real mystery story,” he added. “I’ll tell you about it 
presently.” 

Reaching the beach, the group sank lazily down upon the 
white sand, and for a time listened silently to the scraping of hermit 
crabs across the sand, and to the sea breaking rhythmically upon 
the reef. 

Then the Flight Steward broke the silence. “I'll tell that story 
now,” he said. Everyone was eager to hear the tale, so he began: 

“In the year 1865, which incidentally marked the end of the 
Civil War, a crew of thirty-one men set sail for China on the 
German ship Libelle , which means Dragon Fly. In the hold was 
a cargo of gold and riches. The ship sailed around Cape Horn in 
winter and reached Honolulu in January, 1866. Food and fresh 


56 


water were taken aboard, and the Li belle sailed west once more— 
never to be seen again. 

Two weeks out of Honolulu the ilhfated bark encountered a 
raging wind and sea. Like a cork the sturdy little ship was tossed 
ruthlessly about in the fury of the gale. The crew fought bravely 
to avoid disaster, but the ship finally crashed upon an unknown 
and dangerous coral reef. Fortunately, the men were able to make 
their way to land through the mountainous surf. They carried 
with them the gold and provisions to the shore of Wake Island. 
That gold was buried in the sand. 

“Then another disaster followed. It was discovered that there 
was no fresh water on the island. In desperation the men worked 
against the time when their own water supply would be gone. 
After three weeks of unceasing labor, they built two small boats 
from the wreckage of the Libelle. 

“Exhausted and near starvation, they set out to sea in the 
crude, open boats. Through storms, winds, and heavy tropical 
rains they carried on. Eventually one boat reached Guam, but the 
Captain and his boat were lost forever. When word of the dis- 
aster finally reached Honolulu, another ship set out to recover the 
hidden treasure of gold. But storms flooded the island, and they 
were forced to turn back. My friends, to this day that treasure 
has never been found. 

“All that remains of the Libelle is the great anchor standing 
over there in the park. And somewhere around us lies that golden 
treasure, still buried in the sand!" 

Later that night, Timmy lay awake for a long, long time. Tired 
though he was by the day's adventures, his thoughts were filled 
with the story of the shipwreck of the Libelle. Before he finally 
drifted off to sleep, he firmly resolved to return to Wake some day 
and uncover that treasure for himself! 


57 


LOG BOOK 


SHIP: P.A.A. Hotel. 

POSITION: Wake Island (distance from California—4,893 mi.). 
TIME: 10 p.m. (One hour gained from Midway.) 

WITNESS: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, California. 

COMMENTS: 

We crossed the International Date Line and gained a whole day 
today. Then we landed at Wake where it is nice and warm. This is a 
treasure island, too. I wish I could dig up that gold somewhere! 

Mr. Barton showed me how they measure the wind speed out here. 
The men send up a small red balloon, then with an instrument they 
follow its flight and plot the course on a chart. They read this chart 
and radio a report clear back to San Francisco. This helps to make 
up the flight forecast Captain Day told me about. 

We are staying over a whole day, and am I glad! Spearfishing 
tomorrow! Wonder if I can catch anything? 

All for tonight—glad Fm not a hermit crab. They have to scrape 
around all night hunting for food. 

Sleep, sleep, sleep. 

DATE: December 21, Sunday. 







CHAPTER V 

A WORLD UNDER WATER 


A soft tropical breeze rippled the bright waters of the lagoon 
as Mr. Barton pulled a small boat from the landing the next mom' 
ing. Alert and bright-eyed, Timmy sat in the stern beside Jane Lee, 
who as usual carried her sketch pad and water colors. 

Jane remarked, “Rather than spears and goggles, I’ve armed 
myself with pencils and paint brushes for this day’s adventures.” 

Mr. Barton smiled as he pulled in the oars and anchored the 
boat in a shallows some eight feet deep not far from shore. “We’ll 
see that you have good use for them,” he promised, bending down 
to arrange the goggles and spearfishing equipment. 

Jane looked puzzled. “I don’t yet see how you can possibly 
spear fish under water,” she declared. 

“Oh, it’s quite simple,” returned the Flight Steward. He raised 
one of the slender spears and continued: “These shafts are only 
about five feet long. We shoot them through a four-inch bamboo 
tube which has long rubber bands attached to one end. It acts 

59 



very much like a slingshot.” As he finished speaking, he lifted the 
glass'bottomed box from the hold of the boat and handed it to 
Timmy and Jane Lee. “Before we dive in,” he suggested, “have 
a look at the living rainbows down there. As I told Timmy, there 
are more varieties of small tropical fish to be found here than in 
any other place in the world.” 

Staring through the glass into the clear depths of the lagoon, 
Timmy and Jane Lee watched in wonder many colorful fish as 
they drifted slowly into view. There were parrot fish, with blue 
and green stripes and with mouths like beaks; banner fish with 
trailing white top fins; turkey fish with long tan and white stream' 
ers spread about their bodies like real turkey feathers. 

“How perfectly their names fit them,” exclaimed Jane Lee. 

For a half hour the two sat spellbound, gazing into that mys' 
terious world below. Once Timmy gasped aloud in actual delight 
60 












as a brilliant golden angel fish slipped suddenly over the floor of 
the lagoon. Then came calico-colored gypsy fish, varicolored coral 
fish, and a thousand others that even Mr. Barton could not name. 

Presently he said, “Suppose we dive below now, and try our 
hand at spearing some for ourselves.” 

The boy seethed with excitement as Mr. Barton adjusted the 
goggles which fitted around the eyes and over the nose. 

“When you dive,” instructed the man, “be sure to breathe in 
deeply. This causes a suction that will keep your goggles airtight.” 

“Why do you wear your tennis shoes?” asked Jane Lee. 

“Because the coral cuts and scratches your feet.” 

Poised and expectant, Timmy stood ready to dive. When 
Mr. Barton gave the signal, both took a deep breath and plunged 
headlong into the cool depths of the lagoon. 

A moment later Timmy swam over the ocean floor, when sud- 
denly he saw the Flight Steward draw his arm back to send his 
spear into a large spotted fish. Then, unable to hold his breath 
longer, he followed Mr. Barton to the surface. 

“Where's your fish?” gasped Timmy, clutching the side of the 
boat. 

His companion replied by diving into the lagoon and reappear¬ 
ing a moment later with a prickly porcupine fish on the end of 
his spear. He tossed it into the boat at Jane Lee's feet and prepared 
to try again. 

“It's your turn now, young man,” he said. “You saw how it 
is done.” 

The boy hoped that he, too, would catch one this time! Down, 
down, down, he went into the cool waters once more. Reaching 
the floor, he waited until a queer mottled fish swam toward him. 
Then his heart quickened as he took aim and pulled back the 
rubber sling. He scarcely dared hope to hit the fish, so awkward 


61 


and clumsy he felt trying to stand on the lagoon floor. But with an 
accuracy that surprised even himself, he sent the spear through 
the body of the fish, and rose to the surface for air. 

“Good for you!” cried Mr. Barton admiringly. “You certainly 
learn quickly. Many grown men have never been able to spear 
fish like that.” 

Timmy felt quite proud of himself at these words of praise. 
Still a bit bewildered by his success, he dove down once more to 
recover his prize. 

“It’s a guppy fish,” said Mr. Barton upon examining it. He 
removed it from the spear and tossed it into the boat. “Want to 
try again?” 

Timmy caught three other fish that afternoon; a parrot fish, 
a snapper, and another guppy. He missed the convict fish whose 
six black stripes should have made a good target. 

Several hours later he was still unwilling to return to shore, 
but it was growing late and Mr. Barton had other things to do. 
On the way to shore, Jane Lee displayed a number of drawings 
which she had made of the expedition. 

“Those will look great in your magazine,” commented Mr. 
Barton. 

At the pier, the trio learned that a fishing launch had just 
arrived from beyond the coral reef. A group of passengers from 
the Clipper Ship stood idly about, discussing their afternoon's haul. 

Timmy quickly spotted Mr. Lang's familiar face among the 
crew, and ran over to talk to him. “It was the finest fishing trip 
I've ever been on,” the man declared with enthusiasm. “See that 
yellowtail? It weighs eighty pounds! And look at the size of that 
barracuda. Forty pounds or my name's not Bob Lang!” 

“What are those other fish?” asked Timmy eagerly. He sud- 
denly felt like one seasoned fisherman talking to another. 


62 



He took aim and pulled back the rubber sling 













“One,” said Mr. Lang, “is an ulua. The other is a fighting 
wahoo. And believe me, it was a 'wahoo’ to land! ” 

The men all laughed and agreed that in their opinion Wake 
Island held a record for splendid fishing. 

The afternoon was beginning to wane, so Timmy followed 
the Flight Steward back toward the hotel. Although the sun was 
sinking fast, the air was still warm and fragrant with the tang of 
the sea. Suddenly Timmy’s eyes fell upon a bright blue object 
half buried in the sand. It was a glass ball, about the size of a tennis 
ball. It was hollow, too, and the boy could see little bubbles in it 
as he held it up to the light. 

“That is a float from a Japanese fishing vessel,” said Mr. Barton. 
“Currents and wind have carried it all the way from Japan. The 
floats come in very often, and we pick up all different sizes on the 
beach.” 

Timmy kept the ball for a souvenir, and the two trudged slowly 
on their way. Weary now, Timmy rested an hour before dressing. 

Dinner that night held another happy surprise for the boy. 
Captain Day invited him to dine at the officer’s table. Timmy 
was even hungrier than usual. But he was not the only one, for 
the men, too, ate with hearty appetites. 

Later the boy strolled down to the beach alone. To the last 
day of his life, the beat of the surf upon the coral reef would always 
recall to him this far-away island. As he sat alone on the beach, 
dreaming in the moonlight, his ears became attuned to many strange 
sounds; the lap of waves upon the wet sand, the scraping of hermit 
crabs across the beach, the cry of a lonely tern. It was a never-to- 
be-forgotten moment in his young life, and he made many plans 
for the day when he would return to visit Wake again. 


64 


LOG BOOK 


SHIP: Pan American Hotel on shore. 

POSITION: Wake Island. 

TIME: 10:15 p.m. 

WITNESS: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, California. 

COMMENTS: 

Wake has the most beautiful little tropical fish I have ever seen! 
Miss Lee says she likes the tiny blue damsel fish the best. I do, too. 
They swim by in schools and look like streaks of bright blue paint in 
the water, only they shine. 

I really do like to spear fish. Mr. Barton said I was the best pupil 
he ever had. Lots of men try and try to spear fish, and never catch a 
thing, either. 

Dinner with Captain Day and the officers was fun. We ate some 
tomatoes that are grown here on Wake. They came from plants that 
don’t have any soil. Their roots grow in long tanks full of chemicals. 
They are good tomatoes, too. 

We start for Guam tomorrow at six in the morning. Captain Day 
said the big storm had passed and the way is clear. Goodbye ’til to- 
morrow. 


T. Blake 


DATE: Monday, December 22nd. 




H AO-LOW 8A.W8OO SUNG- 


CORD WRM>?lNGr RUBBER 

\_ /BA.HD 


JT)-cord 


GOGGLES to FIT 

over ^<os>e: 




STEEL W <SPELWR 


O 

d 



t 



SPEAR FISHIN& EQUIPMENT 







CHAPTER VI 

THROUGH THE CLOUDS TO GUAM 


The storm which had delayed them had suddenly abated, and 
the passengers of the Clipper Ship were eager to begin the fourth 
leg of their flight. Long before the ship was ready to take off the 
following morning, they gathered at the landing anxious to go 
aboard. Soon the motors began to hum and they climbed down 
the hatchway, keenly aware that a new port was only ten flying 
hours away. The signal came, and the great plane began to plow 
its way through the green waters of the lagoon. 

Now the coral reef faded rapidly behind them as the plane 
lifted and gained altitude. So skilled were the Captain and his 
crew, that the plane seemed actually to fly with the ease of a bird, 
unaided by human hands. 

Fifteen hundred miles westward lay the tiny mountainous 
Isle of Guam, a lonely United States Naval Station until the com- 
ing of the Clipper Ships. Fifteen hundred miles of travel as the 
gull flies, through cloud-dappled skies, their only companion the 

66 







shadow of the plane skimming over the whitecapped sea below. 

Timmy had gone straightway to the lounge, where he now sat 
studying a collection of shells that belonged to a Mr. Mason, a 
passenger who had become interested in the youth. He was a genial 
old man, bright of eye and friendly. He wore a Van Dyke beard 
that made him look like a college professor. 

“By the way,” he remarked to Timmy, “I have a book here 
on boats. All types of boats, from those first built by primitive 
man down to our modern liners. Would you care to look it over?” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Timmy quickly. “I love boats.” 

Opening the book, he began to study its pages with great inter- 
est. Finally he came to a picture of an old Spanish galleon, and 
Mr. Mason stopped him to say, “Let me tell you an interesting 
story about some Spanish ships. It happened four hundred years 
ago when the great explorer, Magellan, set sail from Spain in one 
of those tiny ships. King Ferdinand had given him command of 
five ships to seek a new route to China. 

“The galleons were loaded with bracelets, knives, velvets, fish¬ 
hooks, glass mirrors, and thousands of little bells. These were to 
be traded for spices and silks which the Spaniards did not produce 
in their own country. 

“For weeks and weeks the small fleet sailed across the Atlantic 
Ocean. The men became discouraged and hungry, and finally 
mutiny broke out aboard several of the boats. The crews clamored 
to return to Spain, but Magellan compelled them to remain. He 
firmly believed that they would find an opening through which 
they could sail on to China. 

“His dream came true. Before long, a passage which we now 
call the Straits of Magellan appeared before them. Through this 
they sailed into a larger body of water. In the words of Magellan 
it was, "... a sea so vast that human minds can scarcely grasp it? 


67 


We know this sea, now, as the calm and peaceful Pacific Ocean. 

"Then came the most heartbreaking part of the journey. The 
fleet sailed on and on without sighting even an island from which 
they could replace their food supply and water. Men began to die 
of thirst and hunger. Their diet now consisted of wormy biscuits, 
even boiled leather hides. At last, after two years of untold suffer- 
ing, Magellan brought his little fleet into the bay of the Isle of 
Guam. 

"Here the natives swarmed upon the galleons in their open 
boats and stole everything in sight. The surprised and indignant 
Magellan named this group of islands the Ladronnes, or Thieves. 
Only recently has this name been changed to the Marianas. 

"After a short stop at Guam, Magellan directed his course to 
the Philippines. This ended in tragedy, for the great navigator 
was murdered there in a strange fight against a native king. Thence 
on, disaster overcame every ship but one, a little galleon named 
the Victoria , which somehow managed to reach home much the 
worse for its experiences. The Victoria is remembered in history, 
Timmy, as the first ship ever to sail around the world." 

The boy had listened attentively. Now Mr. Mason stared out 
the window of the plane thoughtfully. "I wonder," he mused, 
"what the sailors on those little galleons would have thought had 
they seen a Clipper Ship like this flying over their heads?" 

"I think," said Timmy, shaking his head, "that Fd rather be 
up here than on a galleon." He returned the book to its owner 
who now rose to join another group of passengers. 

Presently Jane Lee and Mr. Lang strolled into the lounge and 
sat down by Timmy. Until lunch they talked together, for the 
most part of Wake Island and the buried treasure. As the time 
drew near for them to sight their new port, Timmy fixed his eyes 
upon the western horizon. Suddenly the boy saw a faint dark blur 


68 





across the sea. Less than ten hours from Wake, and land was 
sighted again in the distance. 

“It looks like a mighty large island, 1 ’ Timmy cried with en- 
thusiasm, as they drew closer. 

“Much larger than Midway or Wake,” agreed Mr. Lang. He 
was watching the island approach with great interest. “This will 
be my home for the next two years.” 

“You’ll have an island thirty miles long and eight and one-half 
miles wide to roam around on during that time,” said Mr. Barton, 
who had quietly approached the group. “Did you know that the 
entire island is surrounded by coral reefs which force large ships 
to anchor a half mile off shore? 

# “The passengers are driven to Agana, the capitol, in motor cars. 
Guam is also a naval base, and no ships enter the bay without 
permission of the government.” 

“Are there many people on the island?” asked Timmy. 




69 





“I should say about twenty thousand, half of them living in 
Agana. The men of the United States Navy and their families 
have quarters there, too. The Navy practically runs the island, 
as the commanding Naval Officer is also the Governor. He lives 
in a small palace in the city.” 

"What are the natives like?” asked Timmy. 

“You’ll like the natives, Timmy. They are as happy and 
friendly as your own young friends. They are called Chamorros, 
and are dark-skinned like Filipinos. They have more love and re¬ 
spect for their parents than any other children in the world.” 

The Clipper Ship dipped lower now and Timmy watched 
Guam spread out below them. On they flew toward Sumay Point, 
and suddenly he had a wide view of the entire island. He saw 
spacious fields of rice and sugar cane, banked by green forests of 
tropical trees. Farther on, the quaint city of Agana surrounded 
the bay. He learned that here is one of those few places where 
American and Oriental customs blend happily together. 

Down swooped the plane, its motors throttled so that the 
passengers scarcely knew when it touched the water. Again, as 
at Midway, a launch came out to meet them. On the way to shore, 
Timmy asked about a group of odd buildings to his left. 

“Oh, that is an old Spanish fort,” said Mr. Mason, who sat 
in the boat beside him. “During the Spanish-American War, it 
was shelled by an American ship whose men were unaware that 
the fort was empty. The Spanish people thought the shot was a 
salute and welcomed the American sailors warmly, only to find 
that their port had been seized. It was a strange battle in which a 
single shell captured an island without loss of life.” 

On shore, the passengers went to another modem hotel not 
far from the landing. There a clean comfortable room was in 
readiness for each guest. 


70 





\ RA.A. OFFICE H- HOTEL 


\ LANDING AREA 


\ \ \ MOOR I MS- BARGE 


CALLED LATEEN SAILS ISLAND* 
DISCOVERED BY MAGELLAN IN 1521 
POSSESSION OF SPAIN IN I5b5“ 

CEDED TO U.S.A. IN I8RS 
A COMMONWEALTH IN IR35 

DISTANCE FROM CALIF. b.^O I MILES 
TIME CHANGE FROM CALIF, b HOURS 


_-_- 













Inasmuch as it was late in the afternoon, Mr. Barton invited 
Timmy to explore the town of Agana before dark. “I have both 
a car and a surprise in store for you," he said. 

Timmy followed him outside the hotel. The surprise proved 
to be a dark-skinned native boy about Timmy's age. He wore a 
pair of short khaki pants and a clean white shirt. On his head was 
a large peaked straw hat. 

“This is Vincente," said the Flight Steward. “We call him 
Ben for short. He rides out here on the mail truck from Agana 
each time the Clipper Ship comes in. We are going to drive him 
home now, so that you may see the country and become acquainted 
with each other." 

At first Ben proved a little shy, but after the first few miles, 
he began to talk rapidly. He spoke English quite well, even though 
he usually spoke Chamorro when not in school. He was very 
proud of the beautiful countryside, and eagerly pointed out the 


72 





rice paddies. These were being plowed by strange animals that 
Timmy had never seen before. They were slow-moving creatures, 
and Timmy almost laughed aloud as he watched them plod heavily 
along. “They are funny-looking things ,’ 1 he murmured. “All humps 
and horns.” 

“Those are carabao, or water buffalo,” said Ben. “My uncle 
has four on his land near the mountains. His strongest one pulls 
his cart to market when he comes to town. The cart is very heavy 
and has solid wheels. He brings copra to market every little while. 
He doesn’t need much money because he grows almost everything 
that he needs.” 

“The natives here don’t have horses,” added Mr. Barton. “In¬ 
stead, they use carabao and other cattle. I’ve watched boys ride 
cows to town quite as easily as you would ride a pony, Timmy.” 

On they drove, under coconut palms, through clumps of little 
native huts with quaint thatched roofs. 

“Our house is thatched,” said Ben. “I think you’ll like it. I 
want to show you my pet rooster when we reach home. His name 
is Fuerte, which means Strong. Some day he will be a champion 
fighter.” 

“Do you have cockfights out here?” asked Timmy in surprise. 
He knew that it was not permitted in the United States. 

“Yes, we do, and it is great sport. But,” the boy added, “I 
like baseball best. I am the catcher on our team at school. Every¬ 
body likes baseball in Agana.” 

“Do you like school, too?” 

“Yes,” Ben hesitated. “That is, most of the time. We boys 
go to school in the mornings. We learn to work with wood and 
metal. We also learn how to repair automobiles and how to farm. 
The girls go during the afternoons. They learn to sew and make 
lace and to keep house.” 


73 


“You should see the children do their setting-up exercises 
each morning before school,'" remarked Mr. Barton. “They all go 
to the plaza in front of the Government House where they do 
their exercises. Afterwards, the American Flag is raised while 
they sing All Hail To Thee, Our Noble FlagT 

“I'd like to watch them," said Timmy, "but I don't suppose I 
can. Tomorrow morning we'll be on our way to Manila. Then," 
he paused and his eyes suddenly shone, “only two more days and 
it will be Christmas." 

Ben looked happy, too. “I like Christmas," he said. "We go 
to church and sing. Then we have a feast. All my cousins, aunts, 
and uncles come to our house. We hang beautiful red hibiscus 
flowers on our doors." 

While the boys chatted on, the car drew into a settlement. 
White houses began to appear about them. Some were Spanish 
with white walls; some were constructed of wood with iron roofs; 
others were built in the native style, with thatched roofs of palms 
or bamboo. The larger buildings were the Governor's palace and 
Government offices. These were grouped around a lovely plaza 
lined with palms. Timmy saw many United States Navy officers 
with members of their families walking slowly about this part of 
the city. 

"I think we'd better visit the shops and markets before we take 
Ben home," said Mr. Barton. 

Here they left the car and walked down the main street of 
colorful Agana. Timmy thoroughly enjoyed the markets—the 
long rows of straw baskets, queer hats, woven mats, and other na¬ 
tive ware displayed for sale. 

Ben touched Timmy's arm and pointed to a white building 
across the street. "That," he said with much pride, "is one of 
our motion picture houses. See all the bright posters outside? I 


74 


sure like pictures. I think I like cowboy pictures best. We shout 
and stomp and have a good time at the movies.” 

Presently they reached Ben’s house. It was a simple little 
native house built on a narrow street that was lined with similar 
modest homes. They looked so much alike that Timmy wondered 
how Ben could tell his own home from the others. 

Ben paused before the little house and smiled proudly at 
Timmy. By his manner Timmy would have thought they were 
entering a palace. But a palace it certainly was not. The walls 
were white with blue slats covering the cracks. The steep thatched 
roof was made of coconut palms woven around poles. Wooden 
ladders like steps led up to the front door. The windows had no 
glass, but there were wooden shutters which were closed at night. 

Now, some of Ben’s brothers and sisters ran out to meet them. 
Ben’s mother stood in the door and invited them inside. 

Upon entering, the first thing that caught Timmy’s eyes was 
a shrine that stood in one comer of the room. There a candle 
burned before the statue of a Saint. This light was never allowed 
to go out. Looking about the room, Timmy saw that the walls 
were covered with religious pictures. There were only a few pieces 
of furniture; one small table and a bench along the wall. Chamon 
ros use no chairs. They sit for hours in a squatting position with' 
out tiring. In one comer of the room stood a flat stove without 
a chimney. The smoke escaped through openings in the roof. 

Timmy found Ben’s home very interesting, and Ben’s mother 
very kind. From a great bowl of native fruits, she took some large 
ripe bananas and gave them to the children. 

Timmy would have liked to remain awhile longer, but Mr. 
Barton reminded him that it was time to return to the hotel. Ah 
ready it was growing dark outside and lights began to glimmer 
here and there about the city. Ben came racing around the side 


75 


of the building holding Fuerte, the rooster, in his arms. As the 
car moved away he sent a wistful glance after his visitors. “Good¬ 
bye,” he called softly. 

Timmy remarked that the air was still very damp and warm. 
“Guam is in the torrid zone," said Mr. Barton. “It is hot here 
most of the time. And the air is so damp that residents keep a 
light burning in their closets to prevent their clothing from be¬ 
coming mildewed.” 

Timmy, however, liked the warm evening air. “I think I’ll swim 
before eating,” he declared, to which Mr. Barton nodded absently. 

An hour later, refreshed and very hungry, the boy sat down 
to dinner in the hotel. There were many native dishes from which 
he carefully made his choice: roast pig, turkey, fish, taro, and 
pumpkin tips cooked in coconut milk; native rice, colored a bright 
orange with annato berries, and many other island fruits for des¬ 
sert. The fruit bowls brimmed with mangoes, pineapples, coconuts, 
bananas, and breadfruit. 

When the meal was over, Mr. Lang and Jane Lee invited the 
boy to attend the theatre with them. The moving picture theatre 
for Americans was located on a hill behind Sumay. It was a queer 
structure with three open sides and a roof of corrugated iron. The 
guests sat on hard folding seats. Timmy observed there were many 
naval men and their families here. It was built for Americans only. 

Later, when Timmy prepared for bed and turned out the light, 
a strange chirping noise aroused him. It seemed to come from the 
nearest wall. Rising, he turned on the light once more and to 
his surprise and amusement saw three little lizards on the window 
sill. When he moved toward them, they darted suddenly away. 
Timmy learned later they were called island canary birds and that 
they made their homes in houses on the island. People accepted 
them because they came out at night to eat insects. 


76 


The incident of the three little lizards reminded him that he 
had forgotten to write in his log book. When he completed this 
task, he crept back into his bed and soon fell fast asleep. 

LOG BOOK 

SHIP: P. A. A. Hotel. 

POSITION: Guam (6,401 miles from California). 

TIME: 10:30 p.m. 

WITNESS: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, California. 

COMMENTS: 

Mr. Barton told me that Guam is called the Lateen Sails Island 
because the natives here use a canoe that has a funny square sail by 
that name. And speaking of sails, we flew over the big supply ship 
this morning. It was a beautiful founmasted sailing ship, like the real 
clipper ships of long ago. Captain Day flew low at about a thousand 
feet and circled around it once. They say this supply ship comes out 
to the islands along the route once every six months. 

Mr. Lang said the natives here at Guam love funerals and weddings. 
They call a wedding feast a Fandango. Ben told me that the natives are 
afraid of the dark. At night they shut all their doors and window 
shutters to keep out evil spirits. Isn’t that funny? And Guam has lots 
of lizards. Some of them grow to be four feet long. 

Signing off for now. Manila ahead. Leave at 6 a.m. 

DATE: Tuesday, December 23rd. T. Blake 




CHAPTER VII 

CHRISTMAS EVE IN MANILA 


In the hushed hours before dawn, Timmy awoke to the sound 
of soft footsteps of Chamorro servant boys passing by his window 
on their way to the hotel kitchen. Though no passengers were 
up, Timmy decided to investigate the early morning life in Sumay 
for himself. 

Silently he dressed and slipped along the dark, dark walk which 
led to the hold of steaming pots and pans and fiery ovens. Here 
he watched busy cooks prepare savory dishes for the hotel guests, 
while other cooks packed food into containers to be taken aboard 
the Clipper Ship for luncheon on the flight to Manila. Timmy 
followed a cartload of these containers into the open air. 

It was a pleasant relief to leave the stuffy kitchen and to stand 
on the landing to gase about the quiet beauty of the bay. Now 
the sky began to show the first glow of dawn, and presently as 
darkness faded, lights that twinkled along the pier were turned 
off. The boy’s eyes followed the dark outline of the Clipper Ship 

i 


78 


on toward the shore where clusters of native palms cut jagged 
shadows against the fast lightening sky. The air was warm and 
fragrant still, and he drew in a deep breath as a light breeze ruffled 
the thick hair on his forehead. 

Timmy's daydream came to an end with the sound of chimes 
issuing from the hotel announcing breakfast. Quickly he returned 
to meet Jane Lee at a table near one of the open windows of the 
dining room. 

"I had to struggle to get up," said Jane with a sleepy yawn. 
“The tropics must have cast their spell on me, I guess." 

“I've been up for hours," laughed Timmy. “I think I was the 
first person to awake excepting the cooks." 

When breakfast was over, Timmy and Jane Lee hurried out' 
side to board the launch that would carry the passengers to the 
Clipper Ship. As they walked down the landing, Timmy heard 
a familiar voice call his name. 

“Mr. Lang!" cried the boy in delight. 

“I nearly missed seeing you off," said the man, clearing his 
throat. “The sun hasn't risen, and I don't like getting up in the 
dark." 

“We appreciate your thought," said Jane Lee. “Our trio has 
dwindled to a pair. So you'll have to bid us a tearful farewell." 

“No tears," declared Mr. Lang. “But I will admit that I'm 
going to be mighty lonely without you two. Perhaps Timmy, 
when you return, I'll have a naval base built for you to play in." 

Their short visit had come to an end, and Timmy and Jane Lee, 
after waving a sad farewell to their companion, hurried aboard 
the launch. They felt a bit downhearted, but each tried not to 
show it. 

At exactly six o'clock the plane rose skyward and headed west 
for another island, the island of Luzon where the great city of 


79 


Manila lay ready to receive them. This leg of their flight would 
be a long one, for Manila was 1508 miles beyond Guam. As a 
result there would be about ten hours’ flying time to while away 
before the plane reached its destination. 

Meantime, a keen feeling of excitement began to cause com 
versation between the passengers. Captain Day had told them 
that they would pass a sister Clipper on her way back to the States. 
It had been delayed at Manila because of bad weather conditions. 

“Will we pass near enough to see it well?” inquired Timmy 
of Mr. Barton. 

“I believe so,” returned the Flight Steward. “We are in com' 
munication with their radio operator right now. I think the Cap' 
tains have agreed to fly close enough to give all the passengers an 
opportunity to see the other plane.” 

All morning Timmy kept his eyes glued upon the cloud'flecked 
sky. From time to time the plane glided into the midst of a fleecy 
cloud bank that blotted out his view entirely. This worried the 
boy, lest the sister ship might pass unnoticed. Shortly before noon, 
however, a message was sent down from the control deck bidding 
all passengers to keep watch off the starboard side. 

“Here she comes!” shouted Timmy delightedly. His sharp eyes 
spotted the other silvery form before his fellow passengers did. 

Now everyone crowded to the windows to stare eagerly as 
the other sky giant went by, nine thousand feet above the level 
of the sea. So expertly had each Captain directed his course that 
the planes passed within waving distance. Their radios buzzed 
rapidly exchanging greetings as the planes sped on toward their 
destinations. 

For a long while then the passengers in Timmy’s ship continued 
to discuss the incident which had just occurred. Luncheon how' 
ever, put an end to their enthusiasm. Off the port side as he ate, 


80 



T imm y saw a long black steamer making its way laboriously 
through the water toward a group of blue green islands that were 
faintly visible in the afternoon haze. 

He rose from his seat with shining eyes. Had they reached 
their new port so soon? . 

But when questioned, Mr. Barton shook his head. ‘■‘No,” he 
said. ‘That isn’t Manila. Remember there are seven thousand 
islands in this part of the Pacific.” 

Now T imm y could see many tree-covered islands spring rapidly 
into view. The vivid green of the rich foliage and the deep blue of 
the tropical sea resembled a brilliant landscape painting in the 
afternoon sun. 

After a while Mr. Barton pointed out an island much larger 
than the rest. “That,” he announced with a twinkle in his eyes, 
“is the island of Luzon. Very soon, we shall be going ashore.” 


81 















Crossing the island, the passengers were able to see thousands 
of rice paddies being cultivated by the Filipinos with their ever 
faithful carabao. Shortly a city spread out beneath them a portion 
of which was surrounded by a thick stone wall. Mr. Barton in' 
formed them that this was the Old City of Manila and that the 
walls encircled the old city for a distance of two and one'half miles. 
Here and there traces of the original moats were still visible as the 
plane passed over this ancient Spanish fortress. Timmy saw that 
the houses were quaint and colorful with narrow streets dividing 
their long rows. The city is still a bit of old Spain, even today. 

“We’ll visit it tonight,” said Jane Lee, whose curiosity was 
aroused by the scene below them. 

Now, the magnificent city of Manila appeared, winding along 
the green banks of a river all the way to its delta. Great modem 
bridges spanned the river, linking the older quarter with the new. 
The harbor was almost as extensive as the one in San Francisco, 
revealing numerous long docks around which lay ships flying flags 
of all nations. Timmy thought Manila well worth its reputation 
as one of the finest cities in the entire Orient. 

“Our base,” said Mr. Barton, “is at Cavite, directly across the 
bay from Manila. The United States Naval Base is also located 
there. Do you see the battleships ahead?” 

Timmy nodded and studied the view thoughtfully as the Clip- 
per Ship lost altitude, circling cautiously to make certain the way 
was clear. Then it glided gracefully into the waters of Manila Bay, 
and taxied up to the terminal building. 

A joyous crowd awaited them as the passengers filed up the 
landing to the shore. Looking around in the warm, bright sum 
light, it seemed very strange to Timmy to hear cries of “Merry 
Christmas” in this warm tropical city. The boy gazed in bewilder' 
ment at the high, thatched roof of the terminal building. 


82 



manil 


WAU.ED CITY 


PAA-/ 

“TEFM1HAL 





MAN ALA 

ISLAND f LUZON 


DISCOVERED BY MAGELLAN IN 154.1. 
ANNEXED TO SPAIN \N ISfeS. 

CEDED TO UNITED STATES IN 13R8. 
A COMMONWEALTH IN 1^35* 

DISTANCE FROM CALIF. 7,Q<K> MILES, 
A aROUP OF MORE THAN 7000 
ISLANDS. 














At this moment Jane came up and clutched his arm. “Timmy! ” 
she cried, “instead of going to the Manila Hotel, how would you 
like to join the Macks and me in a Christmas Eve party?” 

Timmy was delighted to accept the invitation. He had been 
wondering exactly what he would do to pass away the time. The 
Macks, he soon discovered, were a young American couple who, 
upon learning of Timmy’s destination, determined to show him as 
much of the city as possible during his brief stay overnight. 

The customs officers delayed Jane Lee’s and Timmy’s departure 
for a short time, then Mr. Mack led them to a large American^ 
made car by the road. 

“Why,” said Timmy, examining it, “your steering wheel is 
on the right hand side!” 

Mr. Mack laughed. “You’re an observing young man,” he 
declared, “to have discovered that so soon. All automobiles in the 
Orient have right hand drives as we travel on the opposite side 
of the streets here.” 

Now the little party drove straightway in from Cavite to 
Manila, a distance of twenty-five miles. During the ride, Timmy 
glued his eyes on the landscape, drinking in all the sights along 
the way. “There’s a carabao cart,” he said, upon spying one. “I 
saw many of those on Guam.” 

“You’re right, Timmy,” returned Mrs. Mack. “Our native 
houses are similar to those on Guam, too, with their log foundations 
and thatched roofs.” 

Timmy found the natives here quite as interesting as the coum 
tryside. The women wear dresses of pineapple cloth with wide 
collars and high pointed sleeves. Cool white cotton trousers and 
shirts seem to be the favorite costume of the men. Once the boy 
waved gaily to a group of natives standing by the road as the car 
sped by, and received a friendly greeting in return. 


84 


Presently the city of Manila came into view, and soon Mr. Mack 
was guiding the car down long avenues lined by dense tropical 
shade trees. Enthralled, Timmy saw every nation represented in 
his midst. Here was a Hindu wearing a bulky white turban, and 
there a Turk, his red fez a little askew. Now a priest, clothed in 
ceremonial black, silently strode by, his hands clasped as though 
he were in prayer. Chinese coolies ran nimbly about, wearing 
strange little black skull caps. 

Soon Mr. Mack left the business section and drove slowly 
down a lovely new road that skirted the north banks of the Pasig 
River. In a short time, the car drew up before a smart modem 
apartment house where the Macks made their home. Inside the 
cool, air-conditioned building, Timmy and Jane were to spend one 
of the pleasantest evenings of their entire trip. 

When dinner was over, the Macks led their guests into the 
living room where a tiny Christmas tree decorated the library 
table. “It came all the way from the States,” explained Mrs. Mack. 
“It simply wouldn’t be Christmas without a tree, and they don’t 
grow here.” There were little gifts for everyone tucked around 
its base; gifts that caused many chuckles when they were opened. 

Later the party drove in to visit the Old City of Manila. It 
looked quite different now to Timmy, and reminded him just a 
little of faraway California with its own Spanish influence. Aim¬ 
lessly the little group wandered through rough narrow streets 
where balconies seemed almost to touch. Timmy bought souvenirs 
to take to his friends back home, and ate bits of Spanish sweets 
that were offered for sale. 

“I think I would like to live in Manila,” Jane Lee remarked 
dreamily as they made their way back to the car. “But,” she 
sighed, “tomorrow we’ll be on our way to the Land of Owl-tailed 
Fish and Golden Dragons.” 


85 


"Off to Hong Kong!” cried Timmy joyously, thrilled by the 
prospect of new lands to conquer. "I wonder how they celebrate 
Christmas in China.” 

"That,” promised Jane mysteriously, "is something you will 
have to learn for yourself, young man.” 

LOG BOOK 
SHIP: On shore in Manila. 

POSITION: Island of Luzon, P. I. (7,990 miles from California). 
TIME: 11 p.m. 

MATERIAL ENTERED BY: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, Calif. 
COMMENTS: 

It is Christmas Eve in Manila, and only five hours' flying time to 
China. I wonder if Uncle George and Aunt Kate will be glad to see 
me. It has been three years since they visited us in San Francisco. 

It is warm and damp here just as at Guam. I like it because I don't 
have to wear any heavy clothes. I bought some Christmas presents in 
the Old City of Manila tonight. I took a ride in a carmatta , too. It 
was fun. A carmatta is a black buggy covered with lots of shiny brass. 
A tiny horse pulls it around the streets. Our driver gave Jane and me 
a real fast ride. The Filipinos go to church a great deal at Christmas 
time. They say, Buenas Pasquas , which means, “Merry Christmas." 
They speak Spanish as much as English. They hang star shaped lam 
terns in their windows instead of holly wreaths. 

And so for China across the China Sea tomorrow! We leave at 
7 in the morning. 

T. 

DATE: Wednesday, December 24. 




CHAPTER VIII 

HONG KONG, HARBOR OF FRAGRANT STREAMS 

Dark clouds spilled a heavy rain upon the island of Luzon the 
next morning as the Clipper climbed into the sky. So far the trip 
had been made under pleasant flying conditions, but on this Christ' 
mas morning the skies wept dismally. 

“It isn’t really a serious storm,” Mr. Barton informed Timmy 
and Jane Lee as the latter regarded their dark surroundings. “In a 
few moments we’ll be above the clouds where the sun is always 
shining.” 

Proceeding to their compartment, Timmy and the young 
woman observed that they had picked up many new passengers 
at Manila. There were a number of well-groomed Chinese men 
and women aboard now. Timmy learned later that Chinese are 
very air-minded, and whenever they can, make the trip by air. 

The mist surrounding the plane began to thin away, and sud¬ 
denly the plane broke through the clouds to rise into sunlight 
again. At ten thousand feet it leveled off and cruised steadily 

87 




toward the China coast. Below them spread a wide expanse of 
silvery cloud banks. Great white mountains billowed above dark 
cloud valleys that stretched for endless miles. 

Timmy stared reflectively at the cloud country until Mr. Barton 
called him. "Captain Day told me that I could bring you upstairs 
for a short visit again.” 

The boy leaped to his feet and followed the Flight Steward up 
to the control deck. 

"Glad to see you, Timmy,” Captain Day said kindly. "I 
thought perhaps you might like another chance to look us over 
before our trip ends.” 

"My!” cried Timmy eagerly, "I didn’t think I’d be able to 
come up again. It’s mighty kind of you, sir.” 

At this moment, Mr. Stone, the Navigation Officer whom 
Timmy had met on Wake Island, walked over and addressed the 
boy. "We’re going to take a shot at the sun to reckon our position, 
by mixing a soda of radio waves and sunbeams,” he said. 

88 



















Timmy grinned with delight as Mr. Stone led him up into 
a tiny compartment a little behind and above the control deck. 
Here, through a small glass dome, the man held up a bubble octant 
which proved to be a delicate instrument that enabled him to 
determine the position of the ship with reference to the sun. Then 
he carefully drew a horizontal line down a chart in front of him. 

“This is what we call the sun line,” he explained. “We’ll go 
below now to get a radio bearing from Hong Kong.” 

When he received the report, Mr. Stone drew a parallel line 
across the same chart indicating the radio bearing. “The point 
where this line crosses the sun line marks our exact position,” he 
explained. 

He handed the chart to Captain Day and continued: “Every 
thirty minutes the radio operator reports our position to the sta' 
tions on land.” 

Mr. Stone left Timmy, and Mr. Nelson, the First Officer called 
from the bridge. “Here, Timmy! I have a little show to put on 
for you, too.” 

In no time Timmy reached the bridge, where the First Officer 
said, “See what the sun and I are doing for your benefit?” His 
teeth flashed in a sudden smile as he finished speaking. 

Timmy peered over the side and saw below him, outlined on 
the fleecy white of the clouds, the birdlike shadow of the plane, 
ever following. But the most wonderful part was that the shadow 
was encircled by a brilliant rainbow. 

The men on the control deck thoroughly enjoyed Timmy’s 
reaction. “We also enjoy seeing this,” declared Captain Day, “as 
it doesn’t occur very often and never fails to interest us. On a few 
occasions I have seen the same thing by moonlight, only of course 
the rainbow is not so brilliant.” 

Presently Mr. Barton reappeared and Timmy accompanied him 


89 


below. Hastily he ran over to Jane Lee and described what he had 
just witnessed. 

Jane Lee nodded. “We watched it, too. Fd like to paint it 
some day. But in my picture there will be no feeling of flying ten 
thousand feet above the sea, nor listening to the whirring motors." 
She stared rather wistfully out upon the horizon. 

At noon, Mr. Barton served a delicious Christmas luncheon, 
their last meal aboard the Clipper Ship. Each table was adorned 
with a tiny artificial tree topped with a silvery star. Opposite 
Timmy and Jane sat a charming Chinese woman, smartly attired 
in European clothes. She spoke to the pair in clear tones, and 
her English was flawless. 

In reply to Timmy's question regarding the manner in which 
Christmas was celebrated in China, she said: “We Chinese have 
a holiday which we enjoy quite as thoroughly as you Americans 
do your Christmas. It is the Feast of Lanterns and it is held every 
year in the month of February. At this time all good Chinese 
welcome home the spirits of the honored dead. Chinese through¬ 
out the country hang many beautiful lanterns in their gardens. 
At night, after a day of feasting, we march with our lanterns, 
forming a long procession through the streets of the town. 

“Such beautiful lanterns as they are! Some look like animals, 
some like men, and others like ships. They shine with lights from 
within, and are so large that often three or four men are required 
to carry a single lantern. 

“At the very end of the procession there is always a monstrous 
dragon who showers little gifts from his mouth along the way. 
If you stay in China, be sure to see this festival, Timmy. You will 
never forget it, for it is unlike anything in your country." 

“I'll try," promised Timmy. He liked this cultured Chinese 
woman immensely. u I'm going to stay in China until spring. 


90 



mmm: 


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Then I am going to fly back to the States with my aunt and uncle.” 

Jane Lee declared, “Unfortunately, I must return next week. 
But I want to hear all about this festival when you come home, 
Timmy.” 

The boy was not too anxious to see the hills of China rise upon 
the horizon. It would be hard, indeed to say good'bye to friends 
like Jane Lee and Mr. Barton. But the thrill of exploration grad' 
ually took hold of him, and despite himself, he began to scan the 
sea for a first glimpse of land. Presently the Clipper Ship nosed 
out of a cloud bank, and there only faintly visible, lay the misty 
continent of Asia. 

“We stop at Macao for thirty minutes before we continue to 
Hong Kong,” said Mr. Barton, as the ship rapidly approached 
the land. 

“Macao,” murmured Jane Lee thoughtfully. “The city of 
Portuguese explorers in far-off China. A city whose three hundred 
years of history weave a colorful story for those who care to listen.” 

Timmy began to notice boats in numbers on the sea below, 
pointing their prows toward distant comers of the earth. Now the 
Clipper Ship had descended to an altitude that permitted passem 
gers to see strange, native fishing craft on their way toward 
home. 

“Chinese junks!” cried Timmy, who recognized them from 
pictures he had seen. They were clumsy brown boats with high 
decks across the stems where the steersman stood to guide their 
course through crowded waters. From the plane, these boats re- 
sembled strange bugs crawling slowly across the surface of the 
ocean. 

As the plane approached a hilltop a lighthouse came into view, 
memorable because it was the first one of its kind ever to flash its 
beacon across the China Sea. Then—Macao! 


92 





The passengers gasped with delight as the plane descended 
into the waters of the crescent-shaped bay. Winding up from the 
waterfront were long rows of houses of pale yellow, blue, and pink; 
with an odd one here and there dotting the wooded headland. 
It was not at all like the China Timmy had pictured all these years 
in his imagination. 

Timmy could see that China, too, has progressed and displays 
much European culture. But the waterfront is still crowded with 
picturesque old sampans and junks owned by the natives, for 
fishing is the chief industry of .the city. Timmy caught a quick 
glance of an ancient temple and a tall dignified East Indian police¬ 
man who was directing traffic. 

Now the plane rose again into the sky and within another 
thirty minutes the end of the journey flashed into view. Below 
them lay the Island of Hong Kong, with its lofty mountain peak, 
and the city of Victoria! The gateway to the whole of Southern 


93 



China, the Harbor of Fragrant Streams, and indeed one of the 
loveliest harbors in the world. Sapphire blue skies blended into 
the deeper blue of the sea. The air was hazy with the smoke of a 
thousand steamers. 

Boats of every description ply their trades along this water" 
front. Timmy gazed wide-eyed at snug homes that nestled com" 
fortably in tiers upon the mountainside that overlooks the bay. 
Victoria, the boy later discovered, is a city of countless narrow 
streets and rows of stairs that lead up the slopes of the surrounding 
hills. He thought it strange, indeed, that while sedan chairs 
are carried expertly by sweating coolies in wide"brimmed, straw 
hats, street cars should clang noisily through the thoroughfares. 

Thus the Clipper Ship ended its flight in the waters of Kowloon 
just across the bay from Hong Kong. It was a thrilling moment 
when the passengers actually stepped ashore. Their nine"thousand 
mile journey had come to an end—a journey that used to take 
even the fastest steamers nearly a month to complete. 

Timmy Blake’s heart beat rapidly as he walked up the pier. 
He was certainly now an experienced traveler. He had crossed 
over the great Pacific Ocean alone by plane. Somehow he knew 
that his parents were very proud of him. He was a little proud of 
himself. 

At the gate he spied his aunt and uncle awaiting him and a 
moment later he was caught in a pair of strong arms. 

"Timmy, boy!” cried his uncle, holding him at arms length. 
"You don’t know how glad we are to see you!” 

The boy laughed a bit shyly, as he looked up into the eyes 
of his favorite aunt. Then he said a little bewilderedly, "Even 
now, Uncle George, it seems funny to think I really am in China. 
I can’t be dreaming, can I?” 


94 





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His uncle laughed aloud. “No, Timmy," he said, “you're not 
dreaming." 

LOG BOOK 

SHIP: Trail's End in Hong Kong. 

POSITION: China (8,749 miles from California). 

TIME: 9:45 p.m. 

MATERIAL ENTERED BY: Timmy Blake, San Francisco, Calif. 
COMMENTS: 

Boy! A lot can happen in a week! Here I am in Hong Kong. It is 
a wonderful city, full of ships, coolies, big government buildings, and 
homes all the way up the sides of the mountains. When I got here Uncle 
George and I sent a cablegram to Mother and Dad. Then I saw a lot 
of the city. We had Christmas dinner at a beautiful hotel with Miss Lee 
and Mr. Barton. I am going to miss Mr. Barton. He leaves for California 
on the Clipper Ship tomorrow. 

Uncle George and Aunt Kate have a beautiful home high on the 
side of the hill. From the front gate we can see the bay full of ships. I 
love it here. I love the model Clipper Ship they gave me for Christmas. 
It is silver'colored and stands three feet long! It stands for more than 
that, too. It stands for the most wonderful trip in the whole world! 
And now my log book has come to an end. China ahead. . . . 

DATE: Christmas Night, December 25. T. 












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